Devils & Angels
by MarigoldWatson
Summary: A mysterious girl plagues Dean's dream asking for help and looking like she needs it but no one believes she's real. No one Except Cas and he's trying to keep her hidden, even from Dean. Starts at the end of season 5 leading into 6. Plz R&R!
1. Prologue

**The introduction of Dea! This is my original character I have been thinking of since season 5 and finally decided to sit down and write it out. I will be changing season 6 a bit and adding in a few monsters of my own. If there are any cool monsters let me know! I'll gladly take suggestions :) This is the first time Dea and Dean will meet. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>It was so dark here. The darkness consuming every glimmer of light or longing I had; the hope I had to ever get out and to live. Off in the distance I could hear the briefness of people talking. So brief I thought I'd dreamed it.<p>

I wish I could dream. Instead I was left in this unpleasant state of being awake but not awake; of consciousness but at the same time, comatose. I constantly felt weightless like in a dream but also heavy like in a nightmare. I had been like this for so long I was beginning to worry that my mind wouldn't be able to know how to send the signals to my muscles, my body, to move.

The light humming of distant talking started up again but I knew these two weren't far away. They were inside my cell: My hell. The humming grew louder as one of them moved closer to me.

Was it time already?

The thickness of the voice let me know it was a man this time as he stopped at what I could only assume was beside my bed. I could hear him slightly perfect behind the sound light sound of fuzzy static in my head. I knew what was coming, and as my muscles began to convulse painfully, so did they.

If there was anything in the world I could've asked for or wished, it would've been to be able to leave that room and the sickness that was about to consume me. I wanted to open my eyes and see the faces of one of my many captors. I couldn't remember a time anymore when I had last seen one of their faces.

Through the white noise of my mind I heard faintly, "When did he decide to double it?"

"Tuesday. He's afraid her body is becoming resistant to the usual dose."

Days held no meaning too me anymore what did hold meaning to me though was the word double. They were going to start doubling it? This was not something I had thought through.

All my micro-thoughts were dragged away when I felt the sulfuric breath of the demon as he bent down towards me. I wanted to scream and to fight but my body was already to sluggish, probably even worse.

He brushed a slow and lazy finger down my arm until he extended my elbow out to face him. I wanted to pull it back in, to cry out, and scream no. That old tingling of frustration trickled its way up and down my nerves as the edge of the needle touched the inside of my elbow. As if I had imagined it, my body tensed up just like I had wanted it to.

The demon noticed it too. All became deathly still when he slide the needle sharply into my skin and released the Cimmerian liquid; the stinging violence of it racking through my body with such force, that it left my body in what felt like complete shattered pieces of agony.

This time I did attempt to fight it. My body began to convulse, twist, my muscles tightening as I strained against the darkness that was slowly devouring me. I could feel it creeping closer to my heart as my struggle intensified. I didn't want this! I wished there could be some way for me to get rid of this sickness that continuously consumed me day in and out. That kept me helpless at the many hands of Satan's very own little helpers.

I bucked hard causing the demon closest to me to jump back.

"Holy shit!"

"She's resisting! Call him in here!"

"At least trying to anyway-"

Wave after wave of pain hit as it drew closer to my heart until finally like a crushing fist, it slammed into it and this time I found my voice, and screamed.

My eyes fluttered open but I couldn't see anything. My vision was blurred and milky like I hadn't opened them in years, which would be true. I felt the darkness slip its poisonous fingers into my heart making it the most intense and overwhelming torment I had ever been subjected too. For a second I thought that I was going to pass out but after the fourth shock ran through me I realized that I was dying.

My body started to grow slack and my eyes gradually began to loll shut. For that brief moment of light that shown through all those years of the shadows I had grown accustomed to so flawlessly, had already begun to fade.

Once my body was back to being completely still and immobile I could feel the tension between the demons start to ebb. I heard the sound of a door opening and closing followed by the light scrapping of boots on tile. Even through all the pain inside me I still felt nausea roll over me at the smell of his cologne.

His breath quivered as his hand hovered over me before he set delicate fingers on my collarbone; caressing his way across and down.

"She seems contained to me," Dante spoke snidely.

"We-we weren't sure at first. It seemed a close call."

I wanted to break every bone in his stupid hand as it glided its way ever lower. A tear escaped me as death began its progress of taking me.

"She's so beautiful…isn't she?"

I knew he was close but when he spoke it felt like it was far off as if in a dream.

I prayed death would take me quickly so I wouldn't have to be awake to feel what was coming next. It didn't really matter anyways. I would never know the peace of really dying.

Coming back from dying was a bitch. The pain was excruciating and even worse than say if I had gotten stabbed, shot, or had a limb broken or removed and even though I wasn't really awake I could feel the pains after effects. Like a ghost reliving one single moment over and over again but when I came to I wasn't re-encased in darkness. My hand was wrapped around a cool drink? Looking down at my hand I saw what looked like a fruity alcoholic drink. My hand covered in its sweat as if I had been sitting there for awhile. Maybe I had?

Was that Warrant's "Cherry Pie," playing in the background?

It felt strange the minute I realized I wasn't just wondering around the shadows of my own mind. No this wasn't own mind I was in somehow I was in someone else's. The only question was whose mind was it?

Suddenly a draft crept over my arms and legs. I quickly let my hand fall away from the drink to rub my hands on my arms, which I found were bare. I could feel my face scrunch in confusion as I looked down and noticed I was sitting at the table in what looked like…lingerie?

Why in the hell was I wearing lingerie?

_Look so good make a grown man cry_

_Sweet cherry pie…_

Following the sound of the music I suddenly found its origin. The scenery was what looked to be a strip joint and I had been sitting in the far corner of the bar. In the dead center was a horrific looking blush couch with one single man sitting back against it, his arms spread out across the back of it, looking more than just a little too relaxed as he watched a pair of girls dressed as an Angel and a Devil strip. I did a quick search around the entire bar to make sure that he was indeed the only male in the joint. He was most likely the one I had to talk too to get me out of this get up.

I tried to get off the stool as smooth as possible but my skin and become glued to the seat apparently and I found myself fiercely cursing as the skin pulled little by little off of the stool. When my feet touched the floor I damn near almost toppled over. What in the hell! Holding on to the stool for support I looked down at my feet which were strapped into what looked like stripper shoes from hell. How in the world was I going to walk in these? Looking back towards the man on the couch I decided I needed to get over to him quickly to change the scenery or at least give me more…comfortable clothes.

My first couple steps were a little sloppy and no were near classy but in the next few steps I took I finally got the hang it. As I got closer I noticed the man sitting on the chair was quite attractive, actually let me rephrase that, _very_ attractive. He had that lean muscled look and a face that any modeling agency would have loved. He was that pretty sort of handsome and I found myself fidgeting with the edges of my bra to make myself look a little better.

What the fuck was I doing? Dropping my hands down I tore my eyes away from him and decided to look at the walls. Bad mistake. The walls were painted black and lined with a meticulous golden design etched from the base of the wall and up to the ceiling. Pictures of either partially nude or nude women were littered across the walls. Glad to see he'd made the place classy.

Once I was close enough Mr. Handsome instantly noticed my approach and he looked pleased to see me.

"Well hello there sweetheart," he said giving me a cocky grin as he leaned forward. "What can I do for you?"

He was definitely a looker with a very gruff baritone of a voice to match and here he was looking at me like I was a sure thing. He most likely still thought I was just another girl in his dream. Wasn't he in for a surprise?

"For starters, you can get me the hell out of this outfit."

His face fell just a little but he was quick to cover it back up with a smile, but no matter what he did his smile wasn't as genuine as before.

"I never knew strippers were picky about their outfits."

Cocking an eyebrow I placed my hands on my hips…and braced myself.

"I'm sure they aren't picky either but I'm not a stripper, dude."

As soon as the words left my mouth I watched as it registered in his brain and his eyes flew open wide as he leapt over the side of the couch away from me.

"Demon!"

"I'm not a demon!"

"Yeah right sister you're singing to the wrong choir," he grumbled.

He backed away from me his arms out and ready to defend himself if he had too. This wasn't any ordinary man; this was a Hunter. Relief came over me as I realized that I was in the presence of someone who knew about this stuff and I wouldn't have to try and explain it to some unsuspecting stranger. Well, even if I did, I was more than a hundred percent sure that they would just say they were dreaming anyways and forget all about it, which wouldn't be too bad.

The two stripper girls were gone when I glanced over to my right causing alarm to shoot back through me. He was going to wake up! No, no he couldn't wake up!

Turning wide eyes back to him I tried desperately to think of a way to get him to realize I wasn't a demon. The minute I had an idea I snapped my fingers causing him to tense up a little.

"I got it. Say God's name in Latin!"

I was so proud of myself for the thought I couldn't stop grinning like a moron. The man on the other hand looked at me like I was one of those wacko-do women you met on the streets, eyeing me up and down with caution.

"No."

He stated it so flat and finale it actually took me a second to process that one word.

"What-"

"You heard me you black eyed bitch!"

My mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Excuse me? I am neither black eyed nor a bitch. You shouldn't be throwing around names sitting in here demeaning women into nothing more than your childish sexual fantasies! And apparently after all this time I can see that a woman still has to please herself around here."

He looked completely dumbfounded. His posture had even changed becoming slack with his fisted hands slowly dropping down to his sides. Rolling my shoulders to ease the tension I turned away from him and closed my eyes, searching for the words that I hadn't used in a very long time. Once I found them I opened my eyes and began to recite it like it was a favorite poem.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo."

Once I was finished I gave the man my full attention. His mouth agape he looked a little dumbfounded for a split second before he regained his composure.

"That proof enough?"

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><p><strong>Dean's POV<strong>

This had to be the weirdest dream I had ever had. Well besides that one where I had to eat through an entire three pound ball of cheese for the chance to have a night with Miss Wisconsin. The things a man will do to be with a woman…and speaking of woman.

The woman in question was now sitting on the far end of the couch, her small hands barely being seen from underneath the sleeves of my olive colored jacket, which I had given to her to cover up with. She had said that since this was my head we were in I could change her clothes but I had no idea what she was talking about. So a simple solution was to give her my jacket and to be quite honest, I really liked looking at her nice legs. My eyes were transfixed as her fingers played across the edge of the thigh-high stockings that hugged her thigh as her eyes roamed around the room. I knew she wasn't doing this for my benefit more probably based on her having nerves or something.

Clearing my throat I tore my eyes away from those honey toned legs and moved back to a place where I thought I'd get in less trouble: her face. Evidently my sudden noise had jarred her out of her daydreaming because it caused her to jump in surprise. I couldn't help but smirk.

"The names Dean."

She gave me a sad smile as her fidgeting moved to the edges of my jacket.

"Dea."

I leaned in a little closer my face squinting as I strained to hear what she said.

"Say that again."

She dropped her fidgeting hands down to her sides.

"Dea," she replied back sheepishly.

It wasn't very much of an improvement and it was an odd turn of events. Barely a few minutes ago she had been so confident and sure of herself and in an instant seemed to become unsure.

"Dea huh?" I eyed her up and down quickly and bit my lip before I continued. "So what brings you to my dreams, Dea?"

She seemed hesitant at first then a sort of desperation appeared to wash over her as she moved just a bit closer to me and gave me her full attention.

"I honestly have no idea. The last thing I remembered was-"She stopped short her eyes quickly giving me a heavy once over. "Was total darkness and then I was here."

She started to look around the room again and I was tempted to snap my fingers to bring her back to attention.

"What do you mean 'total darkness'?"

Dea finally brought those bright russet eyes back to me and it was my turn to fidget. Why did I feel like I was suddenly in the presence of someone who could school me on the things I did and didn't know?

"What I meant is exactly as it sounds. Every single day I have done nothing but exist in darkness. My mind wonders around dark corner after dark corner while my body only feels constant pain."

As she spoke her body began to tremble. She tried to fight it, putting one hand on stop of the other, but it gradually only seemed to worsen.

"Are you in hell?"

There was that sad smile again.

"You could call it that. More like a personal hell that I am subjected too. This is the first place I have seen with any sort of color too it and you, Dean, are the first person I have seen in just as long."

I felt a little surprised and embarrassed as I looked around the room at the décor and the photos on the wall. Man I bet my face looked like a freakin' tomato. Letting out a nervous laugh I gestured to the walls, "Sorry about, well, all this."

That's when she gave me a real genuine smile and it almost felt like my heart had stopped. Almost instantly my body went still as I tried to concentrate on anything other than her.

"It's alright I kind of like it. It's…colorful," she giggled.

After a few seconds of uninterrupted silence she looked back down at her little hands and her slender fingers that played delicately along the bottom of my jacket. Leaning my elbows down on my legs I watched closely as her face remained still with her nerves no doubt kicking back in.

"Where are you at?" I asked abruptly.

Dea turned sharply to face me with her fingers still grasping at the end of the jacket.

"That is a sweet thought Dean but-"

"Look I'm a Hunter I can help you but only if you let me know where you are."

She shot me another heart pounding smile as she finally dropped the jackets end.

"I know you're a Hunter Dean."

Surprise shot through me and she laughed at what was most likely my facial expression.

"I could tell you were a Hunter the minute you started shouting out that I was a demon. I don't know about you but I don't know too many normal people who automatically start crying demon when they encounter something creepy."

"You got a point there," I chuckled. "But seriously Dea I want to help you."

She leaned forward and gently wrapped her hand on the top of mine. It was a pretty long stretch for her and she had to scoot a few inches towards me so it wasn't awkward. I just sort of sat there, staring awkwardly at this girl's hand, while I tried to keep my composure. This was my own dream and one of the hottest girls that had ever been in it had to be a chick that was in trouble. Awesome.

"Sweet thought but I don't even really know where I am anymore. It's been five years and plus, I already have someone coming for me or at least he _promised_ me he would."

"He?"

I wanted to smack my palm to my face as soon as I said it. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. Dropping her hand away from mine she sat up straight and looked forward.

"I've known him for a very long time. He swore to me that he would come and find me; rescue me. It's been a while but I know he'll be here soon," she turned to me and gave me the full weight of her eyes. "He has never let me down."

That look in her eyes was the most trusting look I had ever seen and oddly enough I found myself jealous of a dude that for all I knew could have been make believe, or worse, deserted her. I needed her to feel like she could trust me just as well as she could this guy. Someone had to go and get her out of wherever she was at. First things first though, I needed a name.

"Dea-"

"Yeah?"

"What's this guy's name?"

She gave me a cautionary look as her teeth lightly bit the side of her lip. Looking her directly in those deep russet eyes I gently said, "Dea, you can trust me."

"His-"

Suddenly a screeching alarm whaled through the room so loud my vision blurred as my hands shot up to protect my ears. Dea didn't seem to have the same reaction even though I knew her ears had to be throbbing in pain.

"Dea!" I tried to scream over the whaling but it seemed to be no use.

She looked around the room frantically with her hands gripping tight to her wavy raven hair.

"No, no, no!" she repeated.

The alarm grew increasingly louder causing the walls to begin to shake. What the hell? Was Sam deciding to take a back road somewhere or what? Quickly I got up from the couch and rushed over to her grabbing her by the arms and turned her to face me. She was wide-eyed with panic with tears threatening to spill over.

"I don't want to go back! I don't want to go back!" she cried.

"Go back where?"

"To be swallowed up in darkness! Dean I don't want to go please."

Ah hell the minute the tears fell was the minute I knew something was seriously wrong.

"Dea don't worry about it, Sam is probably just driving on a construction site or something."

"No Dean this is not from driving. This is happening where I am."

That stopped me cold.

"Something must be going wrong because it's the alarm for the building I don't…"

Horror etched her face as a nasty smell began to fill the room. Taking one of my hands away from her arm I gagged into my elbow as I tried to fight the putrid smell that engulfed my senses. But my nose caught something. Underneath that entire funk there was a familiar smell that nagged at me until finally it clicked: Sulfur.

It was my turn for my eyes to get wide as Dea gripped tightly to me.

"Oh god Dean they're back. Please, please don't let them take me. Please!"

Quickly I wrapped my arms tight around her while my eyes roamed warily around the room.

"I gotcha, I gotcha."

I tried for reassurance but it sounded more like hysteria. I didn't have a freaking clue as to what the hell was going on but all I did know was that wherever Dea was at there were a lot of demons and demons never meant anything good.

Abruptly a fierce jerk ripped Dea back happening so rapidly I barely had a chance to grab a hold of her arms. She let out a shriek as another forceful tug came this one dragging me with her.

"Oh crap," I muttered as I fought to get some ground.

The tug came again right as I was lifting my right leg to start pulling her back causing me to lurch forward and damn near being dragged on my face.

"Dean!"

"I got yeah Dea hold on!"

The next one completely wrenched Dea from my arms and sent her flying back towards the far wall. It had been so unexpected I barely caught myself on my hands and knees and watched as she slammed into the wall…and vanished. Frantically I scanned the room but my eyes kept coming back to the wall she had disappeared through, her scream still echoing in my head, and the look of pure terror all over her face.

Not even in my dreams was I going to find any peace.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! <strong>

**Reviews & comments would be greatly appreciated! :))**


	2. Please say it wasn't a dream

**To those of you who reviewed you have my undying gratitude! I really appreciated the feedback! I want to apologize for the confusing start but for you guys I learned about the line! lol This takes place before the episode "My Bloody Valentine."**

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><p><strong>Dea's POV<strong>

"Shut that damn thing off!"

The alarm seemed to be ten times louder here and it barely took me a second to fully realize that I was right back in that room. If I could have screamed out in frustration I would have. Instead I was right back in the shitty predicament I had been in for the past 5 years.

I wanted out damn it!

I could already feel Dean and his room of sexual fantasy begin to fade away amidst all this darkness. Soon in time I'm sure I wouldn't even be able to remember his face. All my thoughts ceased when the alarm abruptly stopped.

My ears strained to pick up any sound at all but it had become eerily quiet until I heard light scuffling of shoes on the cement floor.

"What the hell had that been about?"

"Obviously, you didn't get the memo," the other shot back his voice oozing sarcasm.

"Pfft, what damn memo?"

"They were testing the alarms out genius."

"You keep talking down to me boy and I'll send your ass back real quick to go home to play with daddy."

Tension began to fill the room and its corners as the demons did their square off. I wasn't fully conscious and my body was still overwhelmingly deadened, but the annoyance that radiated off of the two men was beginning to bite itself against my skin. It aggravatingly enough felt like when your foot or other limp had fallen asleep and you got those painful tingles to let you know it was waking up.

"Will both of you please shut the hell up and if you must kill each other, do it outside."

My body grew rigid at the sound of his voice. I prayed that none of them had noticed lest they decide to give me another lovely syringe full of whatever the hell was in them. My body was still experiencing little shockwaves of the after effect of the heavier dose they had given me earlier. Although I wasn't sure how long I had been gone for this time or how long I had died. Maybe one of these days they'll give me too much and the next time when I died I'd actually stay dead. Wasn't that a wonderful thought.

"Sorry Dante we were-"

"Just acting like complete dipshits? I know."

He sounded annoyed, poor thing. When his fingers started to glide along my cheekbone I wish I could have broken them. Every touch he did to my body was a transgression against it and I wanted nothing more than to finally get the pleasure to kill him myself.

"Did you give her the second dose yet?"

Oh please no!

His fingers weaved themselves into my hair; playing his fingers through the ends. As they did a harsh dance through his fingers he suddenly pulled it hard with the tug freeing not only hair but scalp. I fought to keep my face slack and tried to remind myself that this was not the worst pain I had endured. He wanted me to voice my pain but today, I would not give him the pleasure.

"Uh, no we haven't."

"And why the hell not?" he roared.

I'm sure both of my nannies were pissing themselves right about now. I tried to fight back another scream that threatened to tear its way from my throat as the cold steel of a blade sliced down to my collarbone.

"We counted this last session. She was dead for a whole five hours, Dante. We're cutting it a little close don't you think?"

"You morons she _can't_ die!"

"Yeah we hear you Dante but how well do we all really know that man? It could all just be made up bullshit."

"So her living for centuries and never aging is just a coincidence then? Oh and the fact that even Angels keep record of her. I'm sure Angels don't just come up with useless bullshit to spread around the supernatural watering hole."

"Didn't the Angels create her?" one asked curiosity thick in his voice.

"Angels didn't create her," Dante growled back, "But they did transform her, for lack of a better word, into what she is now."

They all fell into silence. I didn't know what was up with all the silence but I would have taken it over listening to them any day.

"Fine. We'll wait later on for the day's injections." Dante sounded incredibly pleased with himself. More pleased than usual. "If she shows even the slightest sign of movement I want you to dose her twice immediately."

"Yes boss," the demons echoed in unison.

Twice? They were going to dose me twice? All my train of thought quickly melted away as Dante began to carve that steel blade into my flesh, trimming off small pieces of my flesh one section at a time. But I refused to scream for him; I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

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><p><strong>Dean's POV<strong>

It was so nice to know that after all these years together I could still earn looks like the one Bobby Singer was giving me now.

Bobby had become like a surrogate father to Sam and me after our dad had died a few years back. Hell, we'd actually stayed with him more times than our own dad when we were younger. Once he'd left me and Sammy out at the old Singer junkyard for a month. Felt like forever at the time, worrying about if he was dead or not. Now I didn't have to worry about that at all. Instead I had new things to worry about.

I'd spent the last half hour trying to tell Bobby about my dream and Dea but it seemed the longer I rambled on the more his face began to crease in worry.

"You really shouldn't scrunch so hard there its making you look older." He just gave me an agitated glare. "Bobby come on you know me! I'm not crazy."

I tried giving him a reassuring smile but he wasn't buying it. I turned quickly to Sam, who was sitting arms crossed against the edge of one of Bobby's book cluttered tables.

"A little help would be nice here Sam."

Eyes widening just a little he shrugged his massive shoulders and tried a few times to say something then just stopped.

"What is it exactly you want me to say?"

Unbelievable.

"Well for starters you can back me up here."

"Right…but how am I supposed to do that? I mean I didn't see her like you did and besides Dean you were dreaming."

"So?" I shouted in irritation.

"Look son, you ain't making a lick of sense. Maybe all it was was a simple dream Dean."

"Yeah but Bobby you weren't there I mean, you didn't _see_ this girl."

"You're right I couldn't Dean because it was in your head."

Shaking my head I placed my hand on the back of my neck and gave it a quick squeeze before dropping it back to my side.

"This was real," I stated flatly.

"Or maybe you just want to believe it was son." Bobby retorted giving me an apologetic look. "I know things haven't been going remarkably well of late. Plus Dean you boys have seen enough strange and unnatural things that would tear other men apart. I'm surprised you didn't get dreams like this before."

Maybe Bobby had a point but thinking back to that room, to Dea, and her pleas for help as she disappeared, I knew I hadn't made it all up in my head.

Taking a stand I faced both of them the best I could. Having it two on one was not how I normally liked to play it but I was far used to it by now.

"I know in my gut Dea was real Bobby and see needs _our_ help. I'm not just gonna wait around here twirling my pigtails until we wind up reading about her dead body in the paper!"

They both sat there quietly for a moment. As time seemed to stretch on I began to feel antsy. I was about to tell them to stick it up their skirts when Bobby let out a heavy sigh and dropped his hands down on his lap.

"Alright kid. But I don't know anything besides an Angel that can go into someone's dreams like that."

"She wasn't an Angel-"

"How could you be so sure Dean?" Sam interjected. "I mean for all you know she could've been the tooth fairy. You aren't exactly the expert on this sorta thing."

"First of all Sam, the tooth fairy is a heavy set dude in little pink tights. Secondly, I may not be an expert but when my gut tells me something, call me crazy but I listen," I shot back annoyed.

"For all you know Dean she could have been a demon or some other creature trying to get out of wherever the hell she's at. I mean, you don't find it the least bit odd that we are in the middle of the freaking apocalypse and some girl just happens to waltz into your dreams asking for help?"

"Sam's got a point Dean."

I turned and gave Bobby a hard glare and made sure to give Sam the same.

"Look she wasn't a demon okay!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I don't know many demons who willingly try to exercise themselves."

Sam clasped his hands together in his lap as he attempted to find a more comfortable position on the corner of the table. Or maybe he was losing the stick that was up his ass. Good luck with that one.

"You got a point there but we don't even know if they can be exercised in a dream."

Rolling my eyes I'd had just about enough.

"Okay listen up the both of you! Dea is a real girl, a real girl who needs _our_ help. She is somewhere surrounded by Demons. Demons Sam, you know the kind we gank on sight?"

Neither of them said anything as the room began to fill with thoughtful silence. Or hell at least I was hoping it was thoughtful.

"Dean I don't even know where to begin to look," Bobby grumbled.

A small smirk tilted the corner of my mouth in satisfaction.

"Well we have a name. Start with that."

He shot me a look between disbelief and annoyance.

"And where would you like me to start ya idjit? There are hundreds of books here to search for one name."

Okay so I walked into that one.

"Maybe you should give Cas a call," Same added helpfully.

Snapping my fingers I gave him a wide, pleased smile.

"Good call, Sammy."

Rubbing my hands together I parted my feet and got ready to call on Castiel.

"Cas! Can you hear me? I need some help or…maybe a favor."

I stopped for a brief second and looked around the room. Nothing.

"Come on Cas this is important!"

"Everything is of the utmost importance to you, Dean," a deep scratchy voice responded.

Turning to my left where Sam sat on the table he gave a start as he realized Cas was standing beside him.

"Maybe we should start tying a bell on him," Bobby grumbled.

He was still a little sour about the fact Cas couldn't heal his legs. I wasn't sure if he'd ever stop being grumpy or at least grumpier than usual. Cas only gave Bobby that infamous penetrating stare of his but Bobby didn't flinch.

"You called?"

"Good to see you're right to business-"

"Dean you made this sound like it was of great importance," he interjected voice ringed with frustration.

"Oh I'm sorry Cas did I pull you away from something _majorly_ important?"

He gave me that wounded child look like I'd just came over and mugged him for lunch money.

"In case you've forgotten there is a war going on with millions of lives at stake."

"No one has forgotten Cas," Sam replied gently.

Cas normally looked rough for wear especially since he had started this whole search and rescue for God. He was constantly going out of his way to help us and to stay out of view of dick Angels like Zachariah. Looking at him now though and the way he jittered from one position to the next with his eyes darting around the room I could tell something was up or at least on his mind.

"What have you been doing lately anyhow? Haven't seen you around in days."

Meeting my gaze I could've sworn I saw the side of his jaw clinch up.

"I've been out."

I waited for him to continue but he remained quiet.

"And?"

"And what? I don't understand what it is you want me to say."

Sometimes talking to Cas made me get a migraine so big I thought my head would explode. Gingerly I rubbed my temples as I tried to think of soothing beaches filled with lots of women in bikinis, better yet, a nude beach.

"Cas Dean wanted to know if you could help us look up information on a woman named Dea."

That seemed to catch his attention. Squaring my shoulders I crossed my arms as I watched him seamlessly ease back into his soldier stance.

"Who is this Dea? Is she of some vast significance?"

Was that sarcasm I heard?

"Well we don't know. Dean claims that while he was dreaming she visited him, appeared, or whatever and said she was being held against her will somewhere. The only problem is we have no damn clue on even where to begin to look for her. So we were hoping-"

"That I would be able to assist you on this dreamt up woman?" he asked in amazement.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you she isn't imaginary or made up she is a real life, flesh and blood, bonafide human being. All I'm asking Cas is for you to help us out maybe find us some leads."

I wish I could read Cas like he could read the rest of us. He was starting to act like an everyday human more and more these days but still reading him wasn't becoming any easier. He cocked his head at me and I realized he was weighing his options on whether or not he should help.

"Please Cas this is important to me," I begged.

He looked away from me and out the living rooms giant window to the junkyard outside.

"I'll do a quick search."

"Thanks-"

And just like that he was gone.

"Could've at least said bye," I grumbled.

"Seriously?" Sam snickered.

Giving him a dirty look I walked over to Bobby's desk and reached out to grab his bottle of opened whiskey only to have my hand smacked away.

"Get your own damn booze!"

Pointing at him as he placed it in his lap I snapped, "Grumpy was the least liked of the seven dwarves Bobby."

"I checked all available resources that I have. No one has ever heard of a Dea nor could I feel a large group of Demons gathered anywhere."

Twisting around fast I was face to face with Cas as he stood next to Sam once again.

"What areas did you check I mean there are a lot of them," I struggled to say.

"I checked globally Dean. The factions of Demons that I did sense are normal during an apocalyptic time such as this."

"Well maybe they have her hidden from Angels or something."

This couldn't be happening.

"Dean I think what Cas is trying to say-"

"I know what he's trying to say Sam!" I yelled back. "But I did not make her up! She is real damn it!"

They all just continued to stare at me like I had lost it. In a brisk pace I walked into the kitchen and snatched my coat off the back of one of the dinner chairs and quickly put it on.

"Where are you going?"

As I fixed my collar I looked back at them my anger turning my words into spite.

"Going out to get some air, got a problem with that?"

"I am sorry Dean," Cas spoke as I walked towards the door.

I had no idea what to even say back so instead of even trying to come up with some half assed reply I just walked out the front door, slamming it shut behind me.

* * *

><p><strong>Cas's POV<strong>

Once the door slammed I knew it indicated that Dean had left. It had brought me immense discomfort to have to lie to him but it had to be done. It wasn't a matter of me enjoying the dishonesty but more of it being a necessity.

I moved back to look at Sam and Bobby, who didn't look pleased to see me these days causing me to feel unease. If I could have healed Bobby I would have but my powers were limited it was just unfortunate that he had been injured and I had not been able to heal him.

"I'll be in touch," I said quickly.

Seconds later I walked down across the worn down roof of what used to be an old factory building. Stopping at the edge I looked out against the night sky and out towards the building that stood fifty yards away from me. Searching out I could feel her, her body straining against much agony, slowly teetering on death. A wrath so profound began to take hold of my body as I stayed tied to her and heard her wordless cries for me.

"Soon Dea I will free you; I promise."

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><p><strong>Did you all enjoy? Am I doing well so far? Any feedback would be appreciated :) I hoped you guys liked it! MUCH LOVE!<strong>


	3. The Rescue

**So this is where the story officially takes off. It has been a long time coming for this chapter; it'd taken so long due to the fact that I am one picky bastard who wants nothing but perfection! :) This takes place just a little after "My Bloody Valentine," after Cas had to leave Dean while Sam was sweating out the demon blood in Bobby's panic room :/ (poor Sammy!) Well guys, I appreciate you reading and I hope you guys ENJOY! **

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><p>It's hard to explain what it feels like coming back from death. It still wasn't even something I was used to after experiencing it so many times. It felt like you were constantly being forced back in by a sling shot. After that you could feel the skin, tissue, and bones filling back up and reconnecting. Making me better than new; besides the fact that second to having your body torn to shreds, it hurt like hell.<p>

My body gave a brief jolt as it began to try and get used to its surroundings again. I felt drained, far past weak; the muffled sound of my nannies gradually becoming more coherent as the popping and ringing in my ears began to subside.

"It's been over two hours! Where the hell are those stand-ins?"

"They'll be here when they get here," the other grumbled annoyed.

Great.

I'd made it back just in time to listen to them complaining; exactly what I had been hoping for.

"Easy for you to say, you had a huge breakfast."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What, I didn't spell it out for you well enough? I'm saying that you're a gluttonous fucking eater and if you keep it up your meat suit is going to explode."

"You'd like that wouldn't you."

"Oh you know me so well…"

I crept away from their continuous bitch fest until it was faint music to the background of my thoughts. It was always a welcome moment when I was able to have these few seconds of quiet, and dare I say, peace before the inevitable arrival of my captures brutality began. I could tell it had been a while since Dante had left but it didn't matter. He would return at some point in time or my nannies would become bored even with themselves and decide to amuse themselves with me. Like I was some goddamn play toy.

My rage made my body rigid as small aftershocks of countless torture rolled over me. I wanted to forget all those times I had been rendered defenseless; unable to fight back as they broke my body again and again. They kept me placid with the vile liquid that was inside the syringes that they emptied into me and pulsed its way through me.

My muscles convulsed and seized as I struggled to get myself under control. If my nannies hadn't realized I had woken up previously I was definitely certain now that they had.

The room had begun to swell with a silence you could feel and I knew without a doubt they were now watching me. Frustration built up inside of me as I fought to relax myself. I wanted to scream, to cry, and maybe even lash out. Shit, I would've been happy just to have been able to scream. What I really wanted more than anything was to be out of this cold room; out of the harshness that my life had become. More than anything, I wanted to be saved.

_Look I'm a Hunter I can help you but only if you let me know where you are._

Dean's words echoed through me as bitterness so deep rose in my heart. Maybe I should have told him where I was. What if my rescuer never came and I was stuck here forever?

It had been so simple and refreshingly different that I had wound up inside his head and how lucky was I that he had turned out to be a Hunter? I wasn't sure how it had happened but I didn't care. All I did know was that I would have given anything to be back with him in that room.

"You think we should give her that dose now?"

"Why?"

"What the fuck do you think genius? We've already waited longer than he told us."

"You really think missing one dose is gonna make this bitch magically be able to get up? I don't fucking think so."

"Whatever man I just don't want Dante getting on my ass about this again. Dude won't shut up for weeks."

I wanted to trip them both down a flight of stairs.

A light humming started in my ears and I was pretty sure it was due to the pressure that had built up, waiting to be released. If I could I would have tried to help the pressure out but since I was rendered helpless I was just going to have to deal with it. It was easier said than done as the humming began to grow louder creating an even more annoying ringing inside my head. I was going to be getting one hell of a migraine.

_Dea…Dea I need you to get up._

Oh great I was finally starting to have conversations with myself. It could only go up from here I figured or…further downhill.

"I can't take all this waiting!"

_Dea you need to wake up._

The tone of the voice this time was sharper; forceful as it became more clear and urgent.

I harsh shushing noise cut through the room.

"Shut up!" one of my nannies snarled.

"What?"

"Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

_Dea-_

I caught on to what my nanny was talking about quicker than his companion; I knew what he was talking about.

-_We haven't much time-_

It wasn't necessarily something you heard, more or less, but the all too sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room and the way the air seemed to thicken as if it knew something you didn't.

The voice was growing increasingly louder than its soft whisper it had been before. It was loud enough for me to make out the deep, scratchy quality of it, and the commanding tone that forced me to want to obey.

"I don't hear a thing."

Suddenly the alarms sprang to life reverberating off of the walls with devastating clarity. For a split second I was brought back to being in that room with Dean not even focusing on the pain because I was too terrified of what the sound meant.

_Dea you need to get up. _

"Holy shit!"

Barely a few seconds after the alarm had shot off the fire sprinklers instantly shot on and almost just as fast my nannies were howling in agony.

_Get up!_

The icy sprinkling of the water was enough to jar me; my body not being used to such a stark contrast. Just as quickly I became enraptured by it and the wonderful feel of something natural instead of harsh on my skin, even if the water was freezing. I was ignoring the voice as best as I could and stayed focused on the man-made rain above me with the screeching alarm and screaming nannies as light background music.

_Dea get up. NOW!_

This time the voice was not as gentle, his last words roaring through my head causing my body to spring to life with those two words: get up. The words bounced around my mind picking up momentum as I desperately tried to figure out who this was and then it hit me: Castiel.

How the hell it didn't hit me before was a mystery.

Although the last time I had seen him his vessel had sounded much different but then again that had been a long time ago with that vessel no doubt being dead for centuries. My heart began to beat like crazy as I realized he had come for me like he promised; I was finally going to be free.

Everything seemed to slow down; the outside noise coming to the faintest of sounds as the adrenaline coursed through me, my heart and breathing picking up speed as Cas's last command screamed back in my mind.

Jolting forward my eyes shot open as my lungs gasped greedily for their first real breath in years. Instantly I regretted the action as my body bent over the side of the bed and I coughed raggedly; my lungs unused to so much oxygen at once.

The room was spinning as my milky vision tried to focus on anything in the room. It was such a drastic change and the more I tried to force myself to focus the more it seemed it wasn't going to happen. Finally the coughing fit subsided and my throat had never been happier. Looking up with blurry eyes from the soaked cement I saw my screaming nannies, their arms flailing, as their fleshed sizzled and burned as the sprinklers continued to soak the room.

Castiel had turned the water pipes into a secret weapon. I couldn't help but feel impressed.

"Nice touch Cas," I rasped.

Oh god that was my voice? It sounded like shit; so I opened my mouth and swallowed down what little of the water I could catch.

My voice alerted my nannies faster than I had hoped with both of them cursing their displeasure at finding me awake. I knew they had to be in an immense amount of pain, which I was all too happy to see, but I had to hand it to them, they were determined. The biggest one signaled for the other to grab the waiting syringe that was sitting on a lone tray that sat against the wall. He turned towards me and made his way quickly across the short space in the room giving me little time to collect myself and the sudden wave of panic I felt at the sight of his pal grabbing the syringe.

He was on me in a matter of seconds; the calloused hands of his meat suit roughly grabbing a hold of my arms as he brought me towards him. I had no illusions about what I was capable of at the moment but I wasn't going to roll over and die either. Cas was running around this building trying to find me not caring about the danger that put him in. I owed it to him to do my part.

Letting out my best war cry I pulled as much strength as I could muster as I lashed out clumsily with my fist. Luckily it connected with his chin making his hold on my arms grow slack. I took the opening and swung my leg out hard kicking him to the ground with me following right behind him. A loud grunt escaped me as my chest broke my fall.

I knew I wasn't strong enough to go toe to toe with them so I was going to have to improvise. Maybe speed, but it was looking like a close hell no in that department. I thought I could get on my feet quickly but again, it was just wishful thinking.

The big one I had just knocked down was back on his feet and peeled me off of the floor. I let out a scream as he whipped me around hard to face the other who was closing in on me fast with the syringe in hand. Without thinking I pushed off of the floor and kicked out at his hand that held the syringe. My aim was horribly off as instead of kicking his arm I hit his face. I must have kicked harder than I had thought I could because he stumbled backwards and slammed into the far wall. The syringe dropping down onto the holy water drenched floor. My saving grace was that my feet were so unstable on the newly wet floor that my feet flew out from under me. My handler hadn't expected such a sloppy landing from me causing both of us to stumble back onto the floor.

As I struggled with the big guy on the floor I was far passed impressed and headed towards annoyed at how ridiculously hard it was to fight them off. I could hear the mangled gurgling sound of their pain as the holy water still rained down on all of us, soaking in to their clothes. But still they persisted like it was just average water but I understood. This water would pale in comparison to what Dante would do to them if they had lost control of me.

Finally the bigger man had me back on my feet and had a tight grasp of me this time but still I fought as hard as I could to be released. The other guy was already scrambling to get a hold of the syringe and it would only be a matter of time before he was on me and sticking that needle into my skin. I knew it would be a waste of time but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try, so taking in a deep breath; I spared myself a quick minute as I tried to call my power. I tried to help my body remember the sudden speeding of my pulse, the rush of energy that helped my body spread with an unbearable heat that then consumed my body in holy fire, but nothing happened leaving me to go with option number two.

"Corporis et animae flamma consumeret vel in pace ut non invenis!"

The minute the last of the words left my lips my captures body erupted in flame that consumed him faster than I had thought. He let out pain filled shrieks and I soon joined him as I realized he was holding onto me still, the flames licking across my back and arms. I struggled with him until he finally released me making me stumble until I slammed hard against the wall.

The demon watched in horror, as the body of his companion exploded into flame, his screams causing a terrible deafening ricochet through the room. The flames sizzled as the water from the sprinklers continued to poor down on top of us but never went out. I'd never known magical flame to dissipate the way natural flame could. It'd be odd if it did.

I slumped there against the wall, my breathing heavy and ill regular, as I watched the now crisp, black body crumble underneath the weight of the water. My eyes followed the embers of the dying fire as they caught the silver of the needle of the syringe lying just a few inches away from me. If the demon wasn't paying attention I could try and reach it before he did; as my eyes followed upwards however they locked on to his as he eyed me and the syringe.

Of course nothing was going to be simple.

In that split second we both scrambled for it, our bodies intertwining as we struggled for one of us to grab a hold of it. I was barely able to move out of the way as it grazed past my neck and onto the floor. I was trying to get some sort of leverage but I was just too weak and was swiftly starting to tire myself out. Then he did it, he made the perfect mistake and I jumped at the opportunity and plunged the syringe into his clavicle, my thumb releasing the vile liquid into his body.

His body went rigid, literally stiff as a board, with his eyes widening in shock as he looked down at me. Carefully I crawled out from under him getting as far away as I could. I didn't know if it would kill him or not but I didn't have to wonder long. In a split second he collapsed writhing on the floor, unable to scream, as his body contorted ruthlessly.

_Was that what I had looked like? _I thought in horror.

When he finally went limp I let myself crumble against the floor. I was now officially more tired than I could imagine and the only thing my body wanted was to rest. That, however, was not going to happen. I'd had enough rest to last me a lifetime.

Slowly I started to get on my feet, which was proving more difficult since my altercation with the nannies. They were stubbornly deciding to act like jelly making it hard to get up. Instead I decided to crawl myself over to the bodies to search for the keys to the enormous metal door. I had checked the remains of my large charred host first; scattering through the ashes hoping that I hadn't accidently burned my only means of escape along with him. After a few minutes it was safe to say he wasn't holding them and I moved on to the very rigid second nanny. It was hard to move him around since it seemed his body was in a tight rigor, while my hands shakily searched his pockets for the keys.

I was beginning to become frustrated with small sobs escaping me as the rain started to feel less soothing and more like a frigid nuisance. I let out a light laugh of joy as my hands finally found the ring of keys in his back pockets. Clasping onto them for dear life I got myself up and moved towards the door giving his body one last brief glance at the black ooze that was spilling from his ears.

I moved faster than I should've but I didn't care as I crashed into the door. After seeing what the demon had looked like and the substance that was now flowing freely from him all I wanted was to get out; my body shaking uncontrollably as I fought to get the key into the lock.

"Come on, come on!"

It slid into the lock and I quickly unlocked it letting out a happy laugh as I started to push it open…but it wouldn't budge. I couldn't fight the terror as I began to slam my shoulder into the door willing it with all my might to give just an inch.

"Cas! Castiel!" I yelled but I knew it was useless.

He was off somewhere in this building somehow making his way too me. Wherever he was he couldn't help me now. Backing up from the door a few inches I prayed my feet wouldn't slip as I took off as fast as possible and slammed myself hard into the door.

Two things happened simultaneously: I succeeded in getting the door open but as the door swung open I had no time to stop myself as I went running straight into the wall, having me land flat on my back.

"Jesus Christ!"

I laid there for what felt like forever in that pool of two inch water, my eyes fluttering as they tried to keep the sprinkles from getting in. It was sort of comfortable in a way even though it was freezing but I knew I needed to get up. To stay lying there only meant I would die, figuratively speaking.

If my body had been tired just a few minutes ago I was now completely exhausted as I leaned my shoulder in against the wall, my legs like noodles as I struggled to lift my feet as I made my way down the hallway. Somewhere off in the distance I could hear the faint sounds of fighting; only growing louder as I continued my decent down the flooded hallway. Mentally I wanted to give myself words of encouragement but I was suddenly cut off from all thought when a demon came slamming hard into my wall making it crack. He took a second to right himself, staring off at whoever it was coming towards him, until he looked in my direction and saw me drenched and alone.

For a second his eyes widened and without a second glance to whomever it was coming after him he started towards me. Instantly I began to back pedal against the wall as he rushed towards me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

I put my hands out in front of me like a moron hoping that if he grabbed for me I could easily slap him off until I tripped on my own feet making me fall in a heap on the floor. Wasn't I just a coordinated princess?

Right as he was on top of me a hand lashed out from behind him, spinning him around fast to face whoever it was. The man in question quickly used the momentum of the turn to grab the demon by the throat and slammed him up against the wall and seconds later the hallway erupted in a bright light and then dimmed as Cas released his grip off of the now empty meat suit in his hands.

"You always did have perfect timing," I breathed.

He turned his attention to me and his face looking like it turned a little green when he saw me. Did I really look that bad? He didn't give me a second to collect myself as he swiftly moved forward and picked me up, wet and cold, off the floor.

"We need to get out of here fast," he stated simply.

I looked up at him and gave him a short look as he started forward basically dragging me along. I wanted to say something smart but instead I moved myself in closer to the side of his body for warmth as he easily picked up my slack. Just as we were about to around the corner a demon came around and punched him square in the nose. I let out one of those god awful girlie squeaks as we shambled backwards. I waited for him to drop me but he didn't. Quickly he righted us both as he looked around us taking note of the two demons in front of us and the three at our flank.

"Of course it couldn't be that easy."

"Can you fight?"

"I don't think-"

But he never waited for my reply. The demon, who had punched him rushed towards us and using me, spun me around fast to land a quick kick to his face. He quickly followed it up with a punch of his own before placed his hand swiftly to his forehead and the room shown bright once again. This time I had made the mistake of not covering my eyes as spots danced around me. He used me as an extension of his body, flinging me left and right, distracting them long enough so he could do damage until every last demon lay dead at our feet.

When the last one fell Cas didn't hesitate to rush towards the window at the end of the hallway. It was starting to look like our only quick exit out of here.

"How high are we?" I asked meekly.

"Seventh floor I believe."

"Oh…good."

I rested my head against his shoulder and fought the fatigue that was threatening to consume me. Midway through the fight I realized that the black spots weren't from just the bright ass flash of light that erupted every few minutes. My body was warning me that it was dangerously close to giving out on me. Lightly his lips tickled against my forehead as he asked, "Are you ready?"

I wanted to come back with something witty and comical but at even the slightest thought of being tossed out of a window at seven stories high, my body wanted to give out right then in there. So instead I lightly shook my head and swallowed down what felt like broken glass in my throat.

"Let's just get it over with."

I moved my head away from his shoulder and looked up at him as he reached out and effortlessly broke the plate glass window.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Dante's voice chimed smugly.

For just a moment Castiel's eyes widened but quickly he hid it as he turned around to face him placing me protectively behind him. I clutched on tightly to his trench coat as I almost exited the scene early. Seeing the drop down for that brief second made me dig my face into Cas's back; I don't care how reckless it was. I was petrified when it came to heights.

"You," Cas hissed.

Dante's smile grew as he spread his hands wide taking a few steps down the hallway.

"Yes, it's me."

Before he moved forward himself, he leaned me up against the wall, and then made his way towards Dante.

"My, my Castiel I must say it is a pleasure to finally meet the Winchester's favorite little pet."

"You defiled her!" he roared, completely ignoring Dante's statement, his fists clenching at his sides.

I'd never seen Cas so pissed off before. Normally he was more reserved; it was hardly ever possible to get him to break that hard soldier masquerade he had drilled into him. He was so different now so much more…

"What can I say? I'm a bad man." Dante gave him a playful pout but rapidly became annoyed with him and waved him off. "Think what you want but I _saved_ her! Saved her from Holy little shits like you. She could've been free and been her own master again-"

"Dea has always been her own."

"Oh, is that so? She's never been called upon by Heaven to do some 'righteous' work?"

"Enough! I didn't come here to have discussions with the likes of you."

"No, you didn't. You came to save your precious girl."

Castiel's only answer was a tense glare at the demon; but Dante simply dismissed him laughing no doubt as Cas followed his every move to block him from seeing me.

"Take your righteousness and shove it up your ass, Halo!"

As if an invisible wall had been removed both men seamlessly jumped for each other and were quickly intertwined in a heated battle. Cas swung a hard right hook and nailed Dante squarely in the jaw. It was a hard hit but he easily brushed it off and blocking Cas's next attacks; hitting him rapidly in the chest, throat, and face and ended slamming him down into the water. I firmly believed that Cas could kill him; I knew he could but it didn't stop my heart from racing as the two men scuffled, Dante now having him pined against the wall.

I had been so distracted with their fight that I hadn't realized the two demons who'd shown up behind me until they each grabbed an arm and started dragging me down the hall way. I attempted to dig my feet into the water but the ground was to slick and they were dragging me fast.

"Castiel!"

I looked back and saw his eyes widen in terror. He dispatched Dante quickly, knocking him to the ground and came running towards me and my captures. Once he reached us he handled them without effort and helped me back on my feet.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head wildly as I looked down at the now empty meat suits at my feet.

"Yeah I'm- Cas look out!"

But it was too late. Dante had already lunged forward and shoved the pipe through him. Cas's eyes widened in surprise, his hands dropped down from my shoulders, as he looked down at the pipe. I hadn't realized it had pierced me too until he dropped down to his knees with a defeated look in his eyes.

I couldn't stop screaming as I fell down in front of him my vision blurring with tears.

"Go," he coughed, blood spilling freely from his lips.

I shook my head wildly; my words defiant as I shouted, "No!"

Dante was already heading back towards us again, another pipe in hand.

"You must go," he pleaded.

"I won't leave you here!"

I should've known he would do something smart but I wasn't thinking straight. Before I could do anything to stop it he simply pushed out his palm towards me and out the window I flew; weightless as I watched in what felt like slow motion as his vessels piercing cyan eyes watched me as Dante came up behind him.

That was the last thing I saw before gravity finally took hold and sent me plummeting to the ground like a comet. I could only remember those deep cyan eyes before I hit the pavement with bone shattering force and then all went dark.

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><p>I awoke with a start as my adrenaline kicked back in. There was something that I was supposed to be doing…<p>

I went to lift myself up when I let out a sharp hiss as glass and other unmentionables cut deep into my skin. Looking down I saw I was lying in the scattered glass of the window Cas had broken to send me out of. Immediately my heart jumped in my throat as I fought off my tears. There was no telling how long I had been out just lying here. I had already lost too much precious time and I would be damned if I wasted what Cas had done for me. I owed him that much.

With my resolve intact I began to lift myself up slowly from the ground ignoring the aches and stinging pain as I removed myself off the pavement. While I'd been out all my wounds had mixed the dark ruby tint of my blood with the ground. How charming.

"That…is a lot of my blood. Lot of my blood," I murmured.

I had just gotten to my knees when a hand touched my back. Swinging my elbow back fast I turned to face my attacker and choked back on a sob. Cas had easily caught my elbow and was kneeling down to help me up off the floor.

"You look like shit," I joked.

Without saying a word he laced his arm around my waist and hoisted me up wrapping my arm over his shoulders.

"We must hurry."

He pulled me up fast and I shoved my head hard into his shoulder biting hard on my lip.

"Couldn't you be a little gentler?"

"We don't have time for such luxuries."

And of course he was right. He'd sped up our already brisk pace as I looked behind us and saw what looked like an endless mass of demons running towards us.

"You got a plan B to go along with all this winging it, MacGyver?"

"I don't understand that reference," he shot back.

I was going to inform him when I felt that awful tingling sensation I knew all too well. I would've told him to fuck off with that idea but it had already been too late and just like that he had teleported us into a middle of an intersection. I let out a scream as a huge Diesel came barreling towards us; honking its horn at us to get out of the way.

"Ugh Cas!" I mumbled tugging on his coat.

"Wait for it."

"Wait for what?"

My answer came when it was almost right on top of us and right before we teleported out, two demons showed up right behind us. I heard their meat suits get squished right before we ended up somewhere else. But we didn't last at these places long because every couple of minutes he would teleport us somewhere else.

"I'm gonna be sick!"

If you'd ever experienced the pleasure of Angel teleportation, you'd know it felt like having your stomach sucked out through your throat. Keep that feeling going on like a rinse and repeat, and you'd end up like me, dry heaving in the middle of a subway station. I was steeling myself for another round when it never came. Instead he rushed us forward and onto the tram; watchfully looking out the doors windows as it shut for any sign of followers.

Once the tram was in motion he gently walked us over to a bench. The minute I was sitting down next to him my body instantly began to shake.

For five long years I had been trapped inside that room; that hell. Now here I was sitting next to an Angel on a subway tram heading to god knows were but I didn't care. Gingerly, Cas moved his trench coat until he had it partially over me as I snuggled into his side, firmly resting my head on his shoulder.

"You can…rest now Dea. You're safe."

I smiled into his chest at the nervous tone in his voice. The idea of sleeping though should have seemed foreign to me; frightened me even but as I sat there wrapped in what little warmth his coat could offer, I couldn't have imagined a better time to sleep.

He'd come for me; just like he promised.

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><p><strong>So I have a pretty good question for you guys! From here on out the chapters will be coming faster and I'll be heading into season 6 and I was wondering: What did you guys lovehate about season 6? What would you guys like to see me keep in and/or take out? I know I'm definitely going to be changing certain things around but your guys opinion is VERY important to me! So let me know what you are thinking! I always love hearing it! Again, thank you all so much for reading! **

**Much love, Jeneane**


	4. The Song Remains The Same

**I decided to do a Third Person POV chapter just for the boys, especially so we could also hear from Sam. This takes place just after everything that's gone down in "My Bloody Valentine," leading up into "99 Problems." In these episodes its where we first begin to see Dean growing faint of heart and just wanting to give up and how Sam tries deseprately to deal with it. I hope that I did the boys justice. It's a short chapter but all the same, enjoy :)**

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><p>Dean was gripping the steering wheel almost painfully tight and was easily going twenty-five wait, scratch that, thirty miles over the speed limit. Sam eyed him warily from the passenger's side and weighed his options of either sitting idly by, praying that Dean wouldn't lose control or grabbing the wheel, which could possibly get them in a wreck. So he went with the unseen third option: Talk about it.<p>

He moved around in the seat until he found a semi-comfortable position and faced him.

"So…we gonna talk about what's bothering you?"

Dean shot him an annoyed look, his knuckles somehow turning whiter as he twisted his hands on the wheel.

Dean was pissed about something again and it was probably for no good reason.

"No."

Raising his eyebrows Sam tried to keep from cracking a mirthless smile as he briefly glanced out the window. Typical Dean.

"Typical."

"Excuse me?" he snapped.

"You heard me Dean; I said typical. You are not the only one caring a heavy load here. The least we can do is help each other-"

"Save the boy scout stuff for another day would ya, Sammy."

Sam knew it was useless to try and talk to him when he was like this but for the past couple of days, ever since they'd let him out of the panic room, he'd felt like he was constantly walking on egg shells around him. Relentlessly wearing the sourest, pissed off look Sam had seen in a long time.

He wasn't sure if he was pissed off at him, at everything around him, or for him starting this whole mess in the first place.

Looking out the window Sam thought back to all those unsaid arguments and looks he'd given him, all of them saying clearer than his words ever could; Dean still blamed him for most of this hell. Sometimes he blamed himself too for being so stupid in believing Ruby…for trusting a goddamn demon so blindly. But none of that mattered now. The only thing that did was that through this whole thing they only had each other. They could fix this without having to give in to that overbearing jackass, Zachariah.

He wanted to look back at him, aimlessly hoping that maybe when he turned around Dean wouldn't be so needlessly pissed off and that he would actually _talk_ to him like he used too. But the likelihood of that happening at all was slim. Letting out a heavy sigh he just continued to stare out the smudged window of the Impala and watched as the stars popped in and out from behind the cover of the trees, like a universal game of hide-n-seek.

When Dean had heard Sammy sigh sadly in the seat next to him he'd almost wanted to take it all back right then. Maybe say something sarcastic and funny, but he couldn't.

He was growing tired of always being on the road; tired of fighting these endless battles that in the end didn't amount to squat. Was any of it bringing them closure to peace on earth? Did they end up saving more lives than they ended up hurting? He sure as hell didn't think so. In the end he was just plain tired.

Seeing Sammy all hopped up on Demon blood again had brought back a wave of painful memories. Each one feeling like they were tearing him apart from the inside out making his eyes burn as the tears began to swell. He had sworn he would never let that happen to Sam again but it didn't matter…it happened anyway.

Glancing over at the kid he felt his jaw clench, his teeth painfully pressed together, as he watched him for a split second as he looked out the window and up into that big blue. His body became feverishly hot when he remembered a time when they were young, dad driving and them playing in the backseat, and Sammy being totally amazed by every single star.

That sinking feeling instantly came back and he couldn't make it go away. They were playing a pointless game here; in the end the song would always turn out the same.

This time Dean looked up at the sky and for some reason thought back to the woman in his dream. They'd all told him she wasn't real but deep in the pit of his gut he believed she was.

_Here's to hoping you're okay, Dea. Wherever you are_, he thought up to the stars before he turned his attention back to the long road ahead.

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><p><strong>So what did you guys think? <strong>

**Again, if there was anything about season 6 you wanted in or out, let me know!**

**Thank you all so much for reading! Reviews appreciated :)**

**Much Love!**


	5. Away We Go

The ride on the subway had been merciful to my overwhelmed body. At least I knew if I was sitting down then I wouldn't have to worry about falling over. My equilibrium had been shot to shit and I'd been unable to tell down from up; I'd made an embarrassing mistake of trying to grab onto the side railing when actuality I'd grabbed the leg of the man sitting next to us. This had only drawn more attention to the bloody couple at the very end of the tram.

We'd been greeted with stares from people who'd gotten on and off; some of them even running into other pedestrians on the tram as they continued to gawk. I'm pretty sure we were both a hideous sight to put it mildly but Cas didn't seem to care about the glances from those around us. The one time that I'd looked up at him he'd been staring blankly forward, his thoughts taking him far away, when I'd jumped at the sudden feel of his fingers brushing through my hair. Resting my head back on his chest I'd counted those strokes as if they wouldn't last and they most likely wouldn't.

Cas was different somehow and I certainly wasn't used to him acting like this. He'd always been a lot of things towards me; sweet, or as sweet as an Angel could be to someone like me, was always at the very top but now-now at certain times he would be damn near affectionate.

In all the years I had known him he'd always been cold in a way. He didn't understand human emotion even though from time to time you could tell he wanted too. And those moments when he would be sweet were only because he believed it to be the right thing to do or because God had willed it. Now though…Cas had these moments where, if I hadn't known him, I would've thought he was just an awkward human being rather than an Angel.

Angels are cold bastards who always viewed themselves as superior to everyone else; entitled to what their father had created. We had all been raised to believe that God's angels would watch over us and protect us from the evil but never once did it ever mention how they truly were. Wrathful and quick to silence those who disgrace their father or punish Ministers whose flock seemed to become enthralled with their teacher.

Maybe the last had just been my experience.

I had counted thirty-nine strokes when it hit me that he was stroking my hair while he was thinking. I couldn't help but smile as I nuzzled deeper into his shoulder and tried to think back to the first day I had ever met Castiel.

It had only been a few years after my… so called accident as the Angels would have it. I'd been walking through the woods when two men randomly had appeared before me. They told me their names were Uriel and Castiel and that they were Angels of the Lord.

To this day I remember the rage I had felt at even hearing the word Angels and I remember taking that rage instantly out on them.

My skin tingled at the memory of the heat of the brilliant cerulean flame that sprouted from my fingers tips and crawled its way across my skin, slowly consuming me and the ground beneath my feet; every step I had taken towards them leaving behind foot prints of fire. The flames only flashing a bright orange and angry red when I moved, lashing out at them; all three of us circling around each other with neither of us trusting the other.

"_So you are angels? The very same that have damned me to this existence I take it?"_

"_The one who-who did this too you has been punished severely," Castiel had informed me._

"_We do not permit Abominations in the name of God."_

Uriel had said it was so much spite I knew instantly he thought himself so far above me and that I was just some disgusting piece of human trash that had been tossed in his way. But I wasn't human; not anymore. I had become something else and it had all been their fault…

"_Charming," I cooed as I circled around them. "And certainly God must allow Abominations if he still allows me to exist."_

_That had earned me a smile of disgust from the dark angel as they both moved to counter me. _

"_Trying to fight us Dea is futile," Castiel said thinking he'd educate me. "You cannot win."_

_Clapping my hands together I replied, "Oh, well I must disagree with you there. You all seem quite easy to kill from my past experience. Besides, I have all the time in the world to try, remember."_

Every word had rolled off of my tongue like a curse as a sadistic smile spread across my lips. It was truth that I had encountered an Angel not too long before them and I had killed him; ripping his celestial body clean from him reminding me sweetly of removing the wings off of a butterfly.

Uriel's eyes had filled with a hatred so absolute I knew if Castiel hadn't been with him he would've attacked me then. Probably thinking in his chauvinistic mind that he could easily remove me, the Abomination, which proved the disobedience of a one of their very own.

"_You repulsive stain!" Uriel snarled as he took a step towards me._

Castiel had cast out a quick arm to take hold of his brother; the eyes of his vessel seeming to flash between disapproval and interest. He seemed confused on whether or not he should hate me or like me since I was still part of his Father's creation.

"_Uriel, this is not why we have come. We have our orders."_

"_We've come offering you a deal, you breathing atrocity," Uriel snapped at me; his words venom._

"_Such a pleasant way to begin talks of business."_

"_This is not a talk about business but of an arrangement. Things like you must either be caged or put to use and luckily for you our Father is a merciful one."_

"_That is why we've come," Castiel had cut in quickly. "God has offered to relieve you of your burden if-"_

"_If you become a servant of Heaven," Uriel had finished cutting Castiel off._

_I'd eyed them both skeptically not willing to not see this as a trap. _

"_For how long?"_

"_Does it matter?" Uriel questioned me. "We are offering you a way out but He wants you to earn it."_

"_Doesn't answer my question: How long?"_

"_For however long your God commands it."_

Uriel's voice wasstill ringing in my ears when Cas had lurched us both out of our seats and out of the tram. The icy midnight air had bit along my skin as we'd made our way up the stairs. The people who had passed by us taking pictures and some even clapping; I could only assume they thought we were doing some sort of random street performance. Better that they all thought that then realize it was all real blood and none of it a show. After we'd gone a few more feet he'd picked a quiet place with no one but a bum to see us disappear.

So now here I was sitting on the edge of a bed in what looked like a _very _expensive hotel room. As soon as we had gotten into the room and he'd set me down his ass had disappeared again. At first, I am willing to admit, I thought he had just left me here to fiend for myself. It wasn't necessarily a bad idea but at the same time the idea hurt. It hurt a lot more than I really wanted to admit too.

Laying back against the bed I scoped out the room.

The room was done in nothing but neutrals: beiges, crèmes, and off-whites. Even the Egyptian cotton comforter I was lying on was done in the same tones, the floral decorations on it hard to see unless you looked _very _close. There were three other doors in the suite and I hoped that one of them lead to a bathroom. A place this nice had to have one of those ridiculously nice Jacuzzi tubes.

Moving to get back up Cas suddenly appeared beside me, startling me so bad I almost slid off the bed to try and hide underneath it. He gave me a quizzical look, his head cocking to one side, as I grimaced trying to collect myself as I stood up. My sudden movements had caused the healing skin on my stab wound from the pipe to reopen.

"Jesus Christ you seriously need a cowbell or something."

He moved his was around the bed and helped me straighten myself up, his eyes removing my hand that I had placed protectively over my wound, seeming eager to examine it.

"I've written it into the books that you are staying in this room for a few days." He dug around in his trench coat until he pulled out a feminine wallet and handed it to me. "The woman's name is Trisha Sanderson; that's who you're going to be while you're staying here. I put clean clothes in the closet for you to have and I believe you can use her credit cards to buy you sustenance."

My mouth was gapping open and closed like a fish as I tried to make sense of what he'd just told me.

"Wait, did you steal this woman's wallet?"

Cas looked around uneasily as his weight shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"I promise to return it once this is over," he vowed.

"That makes it so much better," I giggled.

He didn't seem to catch my sarcasm as his face smoothed out in relief, taking my statement as reassurance.

"Where did you learn to do all this stuff, Cas?" Again with the darting gaze. "From those Winchester's that Dante mentioned?"

That got the attention of those pretty blue eyes. He didn't answer me as we stood there just staring at each other. I couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want to or if he just didn't know how to say it.

"I have to go," he stated quickly.

I reached out fast to grab a hold of his arm so he didn't just vanish on me, disbelief clear on my face.

"What why? Where are you going?"

"I got a phone call from Sa-One of the Winchester's. They need me to assist them with something."

Suspicion replaced my earlier surprise as I released his arm.

"Since when did you start using cellphones?"

He let out a heavy sigh as started to back away from me, no doubt going to disappear any second.

"It is a long story and I'll explain everything when I can."

"What am I supposed to do while I'm waiting?"

I finished the last of the sentence in a whisper as he did just what I thought he would; not even waiting until I had finished my question before he ducked out. Turning on my heel I made my slow decent towards the three doors I'd seen earlier, really hoping that one of them was a bathroom with a Jacuzzi tube.

"Freaking angels."

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><p><strong>Castiel's POV<strong>

Cas couldn't stop wondering if he had done the right thing in leaving Dea at the hotel room by herself or if it had been better to take her somewhere else. As he made his way down the sidewalk of the hotel his eyes scanned for the room number Dean had given him.

He wouldn't have been able to take her to Bobby's for a lot of reasons. The main one being that Bobby didn't really seem to like him all that much since he was unable to fix his legs. Cas also knew that there would've been no way to hide her from the boys and at the moment that was exactly what he needed to do, and even if Bobby wasn't mad at him he would still have to explain the reason why she had looked so bad and why he'd brought her there.

At the thought of the way she had looked Cas felt his stomach twist into something unpleasant, which was an oddity in of itself. All these emotions slammed into him as he remembered looking down at her as she had been huddled in the water. He had been more than surprised that she had even been able to walk around at all and all he had wanted more than anything else was to kill every single last one of the demons that had been responsible for holding her there.

Emotions.

It was something that had been so foreign to him; his vessel feeling overwhelmed and invaded half of the time as he struggled to understand it. He'd been feeling so many, _too _many, of late it seemed. And he had no idea how to deal with any of them.

_But she's safe now,_ he reminded himself.

Knocking on the boys' door he glanced down at his right side with the memory of her being so close to him still lingering on his body.

He had been so overwhelmed with relief that he had finally found her that he couldn't help but hold her close but something deep inside him was calling him a liar. That hadn't been the only reason that he had wanted to hold her; he knew that was true but Cas didn't understand these feelings. Never in all his life since he'd known her had he ever been so scared to be alone in a room with her like he had been tonight but at the same time he didn't want to leave. And when he looked at her…

The door swung open and Dean's sarcastic smile greeted him as he held the door open wide.

"About freakin' time-"

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><p><strong>Dea's POV<strong>

Cas had stayed gone for close to a week.

The first couple of days had been the hardest. I'd sat in the recliner closest to the window of the balcony, just staring at the woman's wallet he had brought me before he left. I knew that the room had been, "paid for," so I wouldn't be hassled about that, but this was something different. I didn't know whether or not he had made this woman believe her wallet wasn't missing and that anything that showed up on her credit card statements were something she herself had bought. I may have been starving but I was pretty sure spending my first real days of freedom in jail was not how I wanted to spend them. By the second day though, when my stomach growled and gurgled in frustration at its lack of food, I finally decided to give in.

I think I was just as surprised by the staff that I wasn't morbidly obese by now or diabetic. Like clockwork, every four hours, I would order a chocolate milkshake. They were especially delicious with the hotel's in house Western bacon cheeseburger.

When night would fall on the city, after making sure I'd turned off all the lights I would just pull the recliner back away from the window, and position it to where I could get a full view of the life and lights all around me; New York City was beautiful.

It was easier for me to sit, curled up in the recliner, than for me to just go and be a part of the life that was taking place below me.

Paranoia was a bitch and I had plenty of it.

Of course, Cas had asked me not to leave the hotel room. At times, like now, I had been tempted to call his bluff and wondered if I did leave if some kind of Angel radar would go off and he'd just appear before me.

Being alone in this hotel room had felt the same as being alone in my prison cell back at the warehouse. The only difference was this time I was awake. Thank god for small favors.

I didn't sleep; I couldn't sleep. After the first initial fear I'd had of talking to anyone, scared that they could be Demons looking for me, I'd finally decided to try for some contact. Granted, in the back of my mind I still wondered about some of the bell hops and waiters that brought me food from time to time. I wasn't in the best position to fight anyone off. Hell, it took some added effort for me to do the most simplest of things. Over time it started to get better as the last of the effects of the drug wore off and I exercised sporadically around the room. I still wasn't ready to fend off a demon attack but, as the loneness began to creep in, I decided I'd take my chances.

After I'd pray for Castiel and he wouldn't show I started to talk to Philip, the bell boy who'd gone out of his way to pick me up some clothes. It had been a lot harder than it sounded. I had no idea what size I was, the ones Cas had picked for me had been too big, so I'd asked him just to pick out everything he could find and just bring it back. After that, whenever he was on his lunch break, the kid would come up and play some poker with me and inform me of the best movies to watch before he would leave. He'd even bring me up the day's paper.

So, here I was; sitting and facing the window, legs curled up underneath me, as I read the latest news about hurricanes, freak earthquakes, and thunderstorms. The body count was record breaking and if I had been just been a normal person I would've blamed it on global warming or something else scientific to make excuses for the earths behavior. But I wasn't normal and I knew what exactly all of it meant.

The sudden crash of something heavy and large running into, what I could only assume was the dresser, came from behind me. Adrenaline sprang to life in my chest sending my heart into overdrive. I spun around, dropping the paper in exchange for the steak knife on the plate next to me.

Cas froze mid-step as he registered the knife in my hands.

"Castiel?"

"You, uh, left the cabinet door open."

He stated it so simply; his face beet red with…embarrassment?

Laughter began to bubble in my chest as I dropped the knife back onto the plate but died as soon as I took in his appearance.

He looked disheveled or, more disheveled than the usual, I should say. He rocked slightly back and forth on his heels and a pained expression, scrunching at the base of his nose, and tightening around his eyes, set on his face. As if he knew I had noticed it he lifted a hand up to rub his fingers across his brows. If I didn't know any better I'd say it looked like he was suffering from a headache.

Finally, my eyes caught sight of the blood splattered along the left side of his trench coat and just as instantaneous I bolted for him.

"What happened?"

"We ran into The Whore but we've taken care of her."

The closer I got the more uneasy he seemed to become, his eyes darting from me to everything around us, and when I stopped in front of him his eyes almost seemed glued to the television.

He looked helplessly panicked.

Cocking an eyebrow I asked, "The Whore?"

"Yes. The Whore of Babylon had risen. She'd been disguising herself as a young prophet; exploiting the towns fear and desire for immediate salvation to damn them to hell."

"Naturally."

The room began to swell back up with silence as we both stood there; with him looking at me and then not looking at me. When I went to say something he bet me to it.

"I apologize. I don't know how exactly I should interact with you."

Cas swallowed hard to the point where it had looked painful and seconds later it was followed by the same rocking on his heels he'd done earlier.

"It's alright Cas-"

And suddenly my nose picked up on the stale and bitter stench that came off of him in waves. The kind of smell that hit you when you walked into a bar minus the stink of cigarettes.

"Cas, you smell like a bum. Have you been drinking?" I asked voice tinged in disbelief.

I'd known Castiel for centuries and while other Angels may have partaken in a few human indulgences here or there, Castiel had never _once _done any of it. He'd always been a devote soldier; always ready and eager to do as his father commanded.

As I watched a mixture of emotion run across his face I realized then that Cas and become something different. Something serious had happened while I had been gone.

"Yes," he stated gruffly. "The Winchesters' tell me I am now suffering a hangover. I can see now why so very few partake in the act. This headache is killing me."

I moved forward, reaching out with my hand to usher him towards the bed to sit. When my hand met his shoulder he'd jumped back as if I had just bitten him. The inside of my chest felt like it was caving in, for just a second, at his reaction. But quickly I shoved it away as I got him to sit down on the bed.

I joined him tucking my right leg underneath me so I could turn and face him; Cas just stayed, knees tucked together, hands in his lap, facing forward and only briefly gave me side glances.

"So," I said, "What was your poison?"

"What?"

"I meant what did you pick to drink? Scotch, whiskey, tequila or maybe some fruity girl drinks," I ventured.

"I drank a liquor store."

"Come again? I'm not sure if I heard you right."

"A liquor store: I drank it."

I could feel my brows rising in surprise as I tried to figure out if he was lying or maybe didn't quite understand my question. Biting down on my lip, my eyes scanned over him and his vessel, and wondered if it was possible it could drink an actual liquor store without bursting.

A few times I opened my mouth to try and say something but each time nothing came out.

"You didn't really drink the whole liquor store, did you?"

The question just had to be asked.

He turned, in the most uncomfortable way possible to look at me. His face unreadable as he just stared at me the intensity of his sapphire eyes making me squirm.

"Right. Moving on."

Slowly, I removed myself from the bed, my mind still spinning at the idea of him in a liquor store just downing every bottle he could get his hands on. I made my way back over to the recliner and picked up the newspaper and headed back over to where I had left him.

As I reached the bed I tossed it at him and, of course, he caught it with ease.

"So, when were you going to tell me that you woke me up just in time for the apocalypse?"

He barely skimmed over the front page before he simply let it fall to the floor. He was on his feet and in front of me seconds after.

"You have to believe me Dea, I was going to tell you as soon as I saw you again. "

"I know Cas." For added effect I gave him a reassuring smile. "We all knew that this day was coming anyway, right?"

"No. The Winchesters' and I are planning to stop it."

"Stop it?" I didn't mean to laugh but I did. "Cas you of all people know that trying to stop a plan mapped out by God himself is like trying to stop Death. Trying to outsmart either of them just doesn't work."

"But things don't have to be that way! The Winchester boys are fighting and doing what they can to slow this speeding train down."

"And a fat lot of good they're doing too-"

"They are trying Dea! What more can you ask of them to do? They've lost much to this war and have given up more than they've ever possessed. They're constantly having to dodge Zachariah and Lucifer-"

"Wait, why do they want the Winchester's?" He didn't even have to answer me before the light bulb kicked on. "Holy shit! They're the vessels, aren't they? Hunters as well as the vessels meant to carry out the final battle for Heaven and Hell. Wow, I gotta say you guys seriously have a sick sense of humor," I laughed, but it was bitter.

I'd begun pacing now with my arms wrapped angrily around myself.

"Yes, they are the vessels and they are-"

"Doing the best they can yeah, yeah I heard you the first time Cas." After a pause I asked, "Is Zachariah still as big of a dick as I remember?"

"He's an even bigger dick now. Even more so because the boys continue to elude him at every turn."

I snorted as I stopped my pacing landing me right back in front of Cas. He was upset now maybe even angry as he looked down at me. It wasn't the kind of self-righteous anger that I had become so accustomed to seeing in Angels, but more like the anger you saw when someone was defending their closest friends; their family.

"You know what I don't understand Cas? I don't understand how you, _you_ of all people, or Angels, or whatever, could be doing this. Going against the will of god; _your father._"

"This is not his will! He has left having most of us believe that he is dead; causing my brothers and sisters to make unforgivable choices because they believe it is for this apocalypse he had planned. My father wouldn't just abandon his children like this. He doesn't care about these people or what we do. But the Winchesters'…Sam-"he shook his head violently, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Those boys are fighting to keep everyone alive. To continue to give everyone the freedom and the choice to create their own path. I will fight for that free will so that the Winchesters', the billions of my fathers' children, so that _you _can continue to have that freedom to choose."

By the time he was done all I could do was just stand there as my brain tried to digest what it was he had just told me.

Everything about him _had_ changed. I could only assume that this new Cas was due to the influence of these Winchester boys. I actually liked it plus seeing this whole new side of Cas was hot. His vessel also happened to be very easy on the eyes.

Now probably wasn't the best time to be checking him out, however.

"Well, I'm sure that if there is anyone capable of stopping this thing on its tracks, it's you guys. And hell if it all goes south at least I'll be able to find out if I can die via the apocalypse."

A harsh chuckle left me but I quickly quieted it when I saw the raw hurt that crossed over his face.

"Don't say that," he pleaded.

"And why not Cas? It's the truth! It would be nice for once that when I actually died I stayed dead. Knowing my luck though I'd be left to walk around whatever's left of the place."

"Dea," he choked, "Please."

I didn't know what had happened or what to do. Did Angels cry? Was that what was about to happen? Taking a step forward I closed the remaining distance that had been between us and placed a comforting hand on his cheek. This time he didn't flinch from my touch or try to pull away.

"I promised you I would protect you, always."

This time, when the sad smile tugged at the corner of my lips, I didn't try to hide it from him or get rid of it. I did remember his promise he had made me centuries ago and how he'd attempted to live up to it but I knew, deep down in the pit of my stomach, that he couldn't do it forever.

Angels could die. I'd proven that fact many times on my own and if Angels could die, Castiel could die.

Just the thought of him being taken from me, to know I'd never see him again, made my bones ache and my heart feel like it had been ripped from my chest.

_When is it ever gonna be enough?_

"We keep trying that Cas but…it never seems to work. I think we both know that."

As soon as the words had finished leaving my lips the most unexpected thing happened: he leaned down and smashed his lips down on top of mine.

The kiss was awkward; he kept adding and relieving pressure on my lips and the way he'd leaned in had left him at a weird angle, leaving at least of foot of space in between us. His eyes were wide open and staring expectantly down at me; I only knew this because my eyes were still wide open from shock.

When he began to pull away it was like my body had finally caught up to my brain and recognized what had just happened.

Castiel had kissed me, and as blown away as I was, I knew it was my turn to kiss back.

Reaching out I laced my fingers underneath the flaps of his trench coat, twisting it in my hands until I held it tight, and used it as a pulley to bring him back down to me. I closed in that foot of space he had left between us and gently pressed my lips back onto his, and this time, I closed my eyes.

I could feel his hands floating in a sort of limbo above my body. For a second I thought I was going to have to force them down but he surprised me again when he rested them against my lower back and pulled me closer to him.

Even though it was the smallest of embraces and the chastest kiss I had had in a _very _long time, it was enough for me. It was enough because it was from him and even though I was over the moon something more primitive inside me urged me to make it more. To lick my tongue against his lower lip for him to grant me access to deepen the kiss further. To mark his vessel with teeth and nails and to have him claim me the way I had wanted to claim him. But I wouldn't do any of it. This, what he had just given me, was enough. It was what he was comfortable with and for the life of me I couldn't bring myself to take advantage.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him but didn't take a step back. It took a second for my eyes to readjust to the dimly lit hotel room and when I glanced up at him he looked a mixture of both relieved and worried.

"I've learned that if that wasn't enjoyable I could blame it later on the alcohol."

I smiled as I ran my hands over the chest of his coat.

"That line of apologizing only ever works if you're actually drunk." The little bastard was seriously scanning for the mini bar. I tugged playfully on his coat and said, "Don't even think about it, Halo."

My fingers continued to play with the edges of his collar and his ill-fitting tie when I realized that I was smiling. Not one of those ridiculous goofy grins that make you look insane but a light one that barely lifted the corners of my mouth.

I was content; content and suddenly overwhelmingly tired. Sparing a glance at the bed I looked back up at him and nodded towards it.

"Will you sleep with me?"

I thought it was an innocent enough question but the look he gave me had me thinking I'd just asked him to take part in a satanic ritual.

"I uh-Dea I-"

"Cas, I actually mean sleep with me not have sex with me."

"Oh."

He didn't say anything else as I helped him strip off his trench coat. Once it was off I folded it and placed it at the edge of the bed and made my way up towards the middle of the bed. I could feel the bed sink down behind me as he made his way towards me.

He looked extremely nervous and when I instructed him to lay down with his head on the pillow, and I rested my head down on his chest, I could feel his heart hammering against my cheek in quickening beats.

It was the most soothing sound I had heard in five years.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh…yes."

After a few more minutes we were finally situated comfortably even though I knew he himself wasn't going to go to sleep. Just having him there was enough.

"I've missed you Cas," I whispered.

My eyes felt like someone had placed a thousand pound bag of bricks on them. The feeling only going away when I shut them. I'd almost fallen completely asleep when I barely heard his soft reply:

"I've missed you too, Dea."

* * *

><p>The next morning when I woke up he was gone and somehow I knew that it would be a long time before I would see him again.<p>

* * *

><p>Sorry it had taken me so long to update. I had lost my inspiration and it took me a while to get it back. I was also underwhelmed with how I wanted to portray Castiel and Dea's relationship not to mention I've been racking my brain on how I was going to incorporate Lisa and Ben or if I even wanted too. Well anyways, I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter and I'd love to know what your feelings are so far.<p>

Thanks so much for reading.

**_Much Love_**


	6. Price of Freedom

A/N: We're officially in season 6 and all the fun stuff can start happening now so without further ado...here's chapter 6

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><p><strong>One Year Later...<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Dean's POV<strong>

It was midafternoon but you wouldn't know it if you didn't check a clock. The sun was still set high in the sky and the presence of the heat it radiated was overbearing. Fanning out my shirt I hoped to catch some kind of breeze or air I created as I finished tying off the last bag full of the leaves I'd racked off the lawn.

Once I made sure it was securely tied I leaned down, picked up the rack, and made my way over to the porch where my nice cold beer was waiting. I placed the bags with the others and put the rack against the house, taking the porch steps in twos. Reaching out I took the beer from the small table that sat next to the front door and took a long pull from the bottle.

"Christ," I coughed.

It appeared my ice cold beer had become a lukewarm one. Awesome.

Shrugging my shoulders I took a smaller sip this time. Lukewarm or not it was still a beer and I wasn't one to waste a beer. Languidly, I walked back over to the steps and sat down and glanced around the neighborhood.

Mike drove by, waving and smiling at me; I did the same and waited for him to stop to talk. It happened every time like clockwork without fail.

"Hey!"

"Hey Mike."

"See you finally racked up the leaves."

"Yeah, I told you I'd get to it."

Mike just laughed and shook his head.

"That you did, man. Hey where's Lisa and Ben they in the house?"

"Nah, they went down to the store to pick up some stuff for dinner."

"You guys are still coming tomorrow right?"

_Another _barbecue.

My mouth set in a tight smile as I raised my beer to the guy.

"We wouldn't miss it."

"Alright Dean see you tomorrow at 7 o'clock."

I just raised my beer, signifying as my wave goodbye and watched him continue his drive down the street. Taking another sip I grimaced as I looked down at the bottle in my hands, swirling the liquid like I could create a vortex that would swallow me whole.

I didn't mind the barbecues or anything and hell, I actually enjoyed some of them, and Mike was an alright guy. It was just still so strange to feel…normal. To tell my nerves that there was nothing out there waiting to get me and nothing trying to find me. I didn't really believe the last part but Lisa had put up with me putting devils traps under the carpet to be safe.

Lisa.

She and Ben would be home any minute now and we'd all go inside and I'd help her in the kitchen to prepare for dinner. I'd started a new routine that didn't involve angels or demons or had me wondering what monster would finally gank me. This new routine was foreign to me but over time, maybe, I would get used to it.

I took another sip from the beer and took in the now leave less lawn.

Today was what I'd call a decent day. They were rare but surprisingly I had them. Like today, I could appreciate the light breeze that rolled through, hitting the cool spots of sweat on my shirt that sent an icy chill down my spine. In this humid air it was a welcomed relief.

Somewhere between this moment and the sip I took from my beer it hit me: I was content, happy even, maybe.

The guilt that hit me came on the heels of my realization and just as instantaneous. It felt like I'd taken a shot to the gut, stinging at first until the gut wrenching pain blossomed from my heart down to my stomach.

I felt sick.

Setting my beer down my hand moved to hold my stomach, as if, in some way my body could shield itself from any more pain. But my pain wasn't physical and couldn't be cured by anything physical either. No, you couldn't heal or remove memories.

Sammy was gone. I didn't even get to give the kid a proper Hunter's burial or have a place to visit him. No matter how much I knew he wouldn't really be there, I _needed _that more than air. To know there was a place where he was at all times and I could just talk to him like he had never left or just gone back to school for some reason that only Sammy could understand.

For months, all I did was lay in the bed of the spare bedroom Lisa had put me up in, and slept every single day away. The only time I got up was when the nightmares of Sam burning, and me unable to save him every time, had been too much. I'd wake up wordlessly screaming, fighting uselessly to control my sobbing, and then Lisa would appear, out of the fog of watery vision, next to me. She'd take me in her arms and rock me like my mom had when I was four and I'd woken up from a bad dream.

Lisa would continue to do this almost every night, and when I'd asked her to stop coming, she'd tried to fight me. She told me she wanted me to know that I wasn't alone and that she was here for me; that she cared.

I wanted her there, I did, but at the same time I didn't. What I really wanted was my brother back and I knew that would never happen.

So I would snap at her with anger that wasn't meant for her and afterwards I would always apologize.

"I'm tired of apologizing, Lisa," I'd tell her while she came into my room to drop off my laundry.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, glass of scotch in hand, doing my nightly routine.

I've had a lot of routines.

"Then don't apologize anymore," she'd said, like it was a simple solution. "When you're ready Dean, Ben and I, we'll be here."

I didn't deserve the love that they both gave me but I took it greedily. I took it because they were the only things holding me back from going insane. I used them to keep back the memories of Sammy and as I moved to get off the porch steps, another wave of guilt slammed into me.

The bitter taste of bile and beer rushed up my throat and I quickly made my way around to the backyard. I had to get out of view from the others so they didn't ask any more questions or ask if I needed help. Mindlessly I made my way to the backyard not even aware to where my feet were leading me until I found myself standing in front of the garage.

The Impala was in there. Underneath a tarp and in the same exact place it's been since I'd shown up at Lisa's door.

My hand reached out and opened the side door. The son of a bitch was shaking so bad I didn't think I was going to be able to open it. The musty scent hit my nose as I pushed through the threshold of the door and made my way to large beige tarp that lay over my baby.

I hadn't looked at her in months; probably a little over seven months. I felt like I was exposing her when I flung the tarp back and quickly ran my hands over edge of the drivers' side door.

"Hey baby. Sorry I haven't been by to see you."

My words were barely audible as I reached out to take hold of the door handle and opened the door. For what felt like a lifetime I just stood there trying to decide whether or not to take a step inside. I hadn't done that in the year I'd been here. I cleaned her and kept her well-tuned, but I never, ever, got myself to sit inside of her.

Finally I slid into the drivers' side slamming the door shut behind me. I ran my shaky hands over the steering wheel and felt a smile of remembrance lift the edges of my lips. It was easy for me to slide myself into the groove I'd made in the seat, making it feel like I'd never left at all.

Suddenly though, I realized where I was, and who was supposed to be beside me. Now, I've never been claustrophobic in my life, and I've been in some pretty tight ass spaces. But this claustrophobia was of a different nature. This dealt with emotions that I had tried to bury deep down. I knew better than to try and run and to try and forget. That never worked; I knew better!

I turned, in what felt horror movie slow, to look over to the passengers' side of the Impala. I jumped back in a panicked blur as my brain tricked my eyes into thinking that Sammy had been right beside me, with that goofy ass half smile on his face. My stinging eyes searched the inside of the Impala and registered that nothing was there but the memory was enough.

Instantly, my heart swelled with so much agony that it violently felt like it was trying to rip its way out of me. A choking sob left me as the tears escaped me and I slammed my hands angrily into the steering wheel.

I'd tried so hard to forget about him and to do what he had asked me to do: to live a normal life with Lisa and Ben. I was doing this for him but in my dreams he always asked me why I never tried to save him and why I'd abandoned him. The dreams had stopped and Lisa and I now slept in the same bed. It seemed I had forgotten all about him and instantly I hated myself.

I forced myself too look back at the passengers' side that belonged to my brother; the boy who was my real best friend, my partner, and the words of wisdom that surprised me all the time. I'd taught that kid everything I knew and somehow, he even managed to teach me a few things too. I could remember every joke, laugh, silent fights and the stupid fights that didn't stay silent. We'd had a million discussions in this car, shared dinners, and beers in and on this car, and underneath all of that were those feelings that had never left me; I was his big brother no matter what and a big brother always looked out for his little brother.

I didn't need to go searching to find my brother because my brother was _here_. This Impala was as much his home as it was mine.

Slamming my hands against the wheel again I realized I'd been screaming my rage and grief into the enclosed car. My voice was raw and scratchy but I continued to scream until it cracked and my shoulders shook vehemently as I leaned my forehead down on the very steering wheel I'd just abused.

"I'm so sorry Sammy," I cried. "I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>Dea's POV<strong>

The city was bursting with life like it always was. Inhaling, my nose was met with the distinct smell of smog, gas, and the assortments of delicious food the bakeries and restaurants that were sandwiched between my shop made every morning.

Unlocking the door I took a few more seconds to enjoy the smells before I wandered inside shutting the door behind me. I started to strip off my coat and after I had one arm through the sleeve I turned my business sign to "Open." I tucked my coat around my arm and made my way over to the counter.

I was too lazy to walk all the way behind the counter to drop off my stuff so instead I simply leaned over, as far as I could reach, and threw my stuff behind it. Neither the backpack nor coat were that important and neither was the phone stashed in its pocket.

I had plenty of things to do today but first things first…

I made my way over to the large refrigerator that held a dozen assortments of bouquets, corsages, and small potted plants that I'd arranged for walk-in customers to browse. Inside it today it held a special bouquet that I had made yesterday, and in an hour, I was going to have Phillip take it to the same address, like every other month that had passed this past year.

Reaching out I took the handle on the fridge's sliding glass door and gently slid it open, leaning my shoulder inside to keep it from shutting, as my fingers fiddled with the card attached to the flowers.

Trisha Sanderson

245 Black Hills St. Apt 12B

I didn't know why I always checked the card so many times before I let them get sent out. I knew that woman's address better than she did probably but still I couldn't help but triple check it every time. Sending this woman a bouquet of flowers every month seemed like something small compared to the large number of bills I had racked up on her credit cards the first week I had been free. I just hoped that when she got her bouquet every month they made her smile. If she thought she had a secret admirer, well, that was okay too I guess. Unless, of course, she had a husband or something then that wasn't so good.

Moving out of the way of the door I watched as it slid shut before I turned back around and picked up the stacks of orders to be made on the counter. I briefly read through them before I set them back down on the counter; keeping the one on the top so I could go pick the necessary flowers for the arrangement that had been requested.

I made my way down the hall towards the greenhouse that held all the different trees and flowers I sold. I hadn't realized I had been walking so fast until I found myself standing inside the middle of the greenhouse, my hands tucked loosely in my pockets, as I took a minute to just enjoy the little Eden that I had created for myself in the heart of New York City.

I took in another deep breath, this time the scents of gardenias and lavender filling my nose, instead of the smog and smoke outside. It was completely different; my own little Eden.

Letting out the breath I'd taken I picked up my gloves and shears and made my way to the yellow rose bush to start collecting them for the bouquet. As I began to trim the thorns off of the stems I also began to think which, was a trend that happened often when I worked, and as usual I found myself thinking about Castiel.

The first few months I had prayed and asked for him to come and visit me or just to see him. Not once did the little bastard answer me but after a while I started to figure that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. If I didn't see Cas that meant I had a better chance of having the normal life that I had built for myself here. I'd even changed my name to Charlotte; Dea never existed.

I hadn't run into any demons or monsters and when I caught wind of something that did sound monster related I relayed the information to a Hunter down in Boston.

I hadn't trained or practiced like I normally would have. I didn't want my strength or powers back; shit I didn't want any of it. No one really took notice of me very often; my life was quiet and settled. I liked it this way and even though I missed Cas more than I'd like to admit, I couldn't deny the small sense of joy I felt at knowing that each day was still just a _normal _boring day.

I ran my gloved fingers delicately over one of the yellow petals and took noticed of the soft inlay of orange that crept up at the base of the petals. It was a beautiful effect one that I hadn't seen in my flowers before and even strangely enough, it made me think of Dean.

I'd thought about him once before when I'd passed a couple of Hunters on the street. They'd been trying to pass as a team sent from Terminax to investigate an" infestation" in a home. The only problem with their uniforms was that they were old, like, three years out of date old.

_I'm a Hunter I can help you._

His words played on what felt like repeat in the back of my mind when I was alone like this. It'd been a whole year since Cas had broken me out of that hell hole but sometimes I wondered what would've happened if I had told Dean where I was? Would Castiel have helped him rescue me? Or would I have sent Dean on a mission that would've ended up getting him killed?

It was thoughts like these that always ended up making me happy that I hadn't told him. He'd probably would've ended up dead and granted, Hunter's lifespans weren't very long to begin with, but I wasn't going to be the reason he died so young.

Still, I guess a part of me had just wanted to meet him in real life and maybe I would always wonder if I was ever going to see that handsome, determined face of his again.

I was so deep in thought I was surprised I had even caught it; the sound of giant wings entering the room. With acoustics like the ones the greenhouse had I would've been ashamed if I hadn't heard it. Instantly my back grew rigid as I set the rose down with the bundle I had begun to make at my feet. All I was armed with were pruning shears and against an Angel that wasn't going to jack shit.

It was the equivalent of fighting a bear off with a pine cone: all I would effectively do is piss it off.

Letting out a sigh I moved to turn around and face the intruder who had violated my safe haven with their presence and found myself taking in a sharp breath when I finally saw who it was.

He gave me a welcoming smile, his eyes sparkling, as he took a few more steps towards me.

"Hello, Dea or should I call you Charlotte now?"

His voice was still just as gruff and scratchy as I had remembered it.

"Cas…what the hell are you doing here?"

He looked puzzled for a second as he eyed me cautiously, uncertain of how to continue.

"I came to see you," he stated as if I were dense.

"Uh, why didn't you come and see me the first thousand times I called you?"

"I was uh-busy."

My eyes narrowed as my hands tightened around the shear.

"And now you're not busy, I take it?"

"No, I still am."

"Then why are you really here Castiel?"

And there was that perplexed look again.

"I told you-"

I held up my hand to cut him off already annoyed.

"Let's just quite the foreplay and just skip to the good stuff shall we? I'm going to ask you again Cas, and this time, do not lie to me." I paused for a second as we stared at each other like the few feet between us was a giant chasm. "What are you doing here?"

He kept his hands tucked inside the pockets of his trench coat, and this time when he looked at me, eyes narrowed with all the perplexity and confusion he had shown was gone. He squared his shoulders helping him to stand up straight and he eyed me warily as he took a cautious step towards me.

In the short time that I had got to spend with him that carefree and almost human Cas that he had become was gone. Now it was replaced back with that hard soldier mask like all the other times I'd known him except this time he held himself like a commander instead of a foot soldier. His presence demanded attention silently and whether you wanted to or not, you gave it.

"I needed to know if you've been practicing," he said, straight and to the point.

I appreciated his directness but at the same time hated him for it and to be honest I found myself surprised at the fact he'd even had to ask that question.

"Practicing what?" I joked. "Quilting? Chest? Croche-"

"You know what I'm talking about Dea!"

He'd said it with so much irritation that I felt my body jerk as if he had hit me.

"Excuse me, but I have been trying to keep a low profile and have a life free from this sort of bullshit. So, no Cas, I haven't."

My earlier annoyance had returned and continued to grow as he looked at me like I was a child.

"You are being reckless. We are at war-"

"It is not my war! Angels created this war themselves and last time I checked I wasn't an Angel."

"No, you're not but you are an Instrument of Heaven."

I hated it when Cas used that term on me. It made me feel self-conscious and dirty.

"I may have been once but not anymore."

I was seething and, for the first time in a long time, I wanted to hit him.

I had devoted enough of my centuries to try and get in good with the big man and his overly righteous children. Centuries I had waited for Him to talk to me or relinquish me from this walking hell, but that call never came, and continuously I was used for purposes never explained to me. All I got in return was an endless supply of dick Angels who only referred to me as the Abomination. The exact same Abomination they themselves created out of their own self-righteous idiocracy.

Cas's features softened as he no doubt realized I was reliving every moment I'd been forced to spend with them.

"I am sorry Dea but even if you are done Raphael will not back down willingly. He will continue to come after you until you either join him or are destroyed."

I figured when the world didn't end that Castiel and his Winchester buddies had saved it. After that I didn't know much of anything else that was going on but if Raphael was involved it couldn't be good. He was an even bigger dick than Uriel had been.

"I can't be destroyed," I snorted. "The only person who can destroy me refuses."

"It doesn't matter Dea! The fact of the matter is simple. If he cannot have you then he will find a way to make you manageable enough _to_ handle."

I set down the shears and placed my hands on my hips. I gazed out the greenhouses sky roof and into the multi-blue hue up above. Almost instantly I felt a calm wash over me that only the sky could bring. It was simple but it was enough for me.

"So what are you asking from me exactly, Cas?"

My eyes were still trained on the clouds that swam in the ocean of blue above me.

"All I ask is that you join me. I can take you somewhere where you will be safe and can gradually work on gaining your strength back."

I was startled as I felt his hand lightly touch mine forcing me to look from one blue into another.

I don't know how he had gotten so close without me knowing but, then again, I was off in la-la land and Cas was, well, an Angel. He held my hand gingerly as if it would break and just as uncomfortable. For all his new learned tricks and trades of human emotion something's still made no sense to him. I couldn't help but smirk at his attempt at intimacy with me, being a year out of practice like he was. He looked at me puzzled as I adjusted my hand in his until they intertwined perfectly. Clearing my throat I turned to face him, completely giving him my attention.

"So you want me to join, what, your Scooby gang?" It barely took me a second before I realized he didn't understand what I meant. "You want me to join your team before his, is that it?"

Castiel's face went placid smooth as he cocked his head to the side, those cyan deep eyes piercing, as he gazed down at me.

He let go of my hand and lifted his now free one up to touch my face, but the half-hearted idea died as his fingers curled into a fist, and dropped back down to his side.

"I just want you to be safe."

Even though I knew it was an empty hope my heart still swelled. We stood there in silence as we just stared at one another. No matter what there was always something that comforted me about being in his presence. I opened my mouth to say something when a deep, acidic voice, cut through the silence and just like that I watched as Castiel became alive with alertness; his relaxed demeanor seconds earlier seeming like a ghost.

He whirled around so we both stood face to face with Raphael and what looked like two of his lackeys. There was always the possibility however, that there could be more hiding.

I cursed under my breath for not putting those Angel sigils up; Castiel be damned.

"Ah Castiel…and his Abomination whore," Raphael crooned.

My eyes tightened as I suddenly wished I had been practicing just so I could have the pleasure of ripping him into shreds. The idea that a giant anvil would somehow drop from the sky and crush him was a sweeter idea, but this, sadly, wasn't a cartoon.

Castiel's stance became rigid, his fists convulsing, as his eyes filled with, dare I say it, hatred.

"Oh look an angel with backhanded insults. That's something you don't see every day."

Raphael turned to look at me and immediately Cas stepped in front of me bringing the other man's attention right back to him.

"It still amazes me how attached to this _thing _you are, Castiel. It's almost like slumming."

"You seriously need to get over your superiority complex. You die just like everything else," I informed him.

Glancing over his shoulder quickly, Cas shot me a look that said plainly: stand still and shut up. Obviously, he forgot who he was standing next too. Then again there was nothing I could really do besides constantly die and depending on what they did to me, there could possibly be a recharge time. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt completely useless.

"You will not take her Raphael. I won't allow it."

"It doesn't matter what you _allow._ This dance has gone on long enough and one way or the other, you will bow to me Castiel…or you will die."

Always with the dramatics…

"You want to bring back the apocalypse! There's no need for it any more why can't you see that?"

"No Castiel what I see is a rebellious Angel, just like Lucifer, throwing off the plans that had been designed by our father himself. So I will take this stain in the eyes of God, give her back to the demon hordes that held her for Lucifer, and wait for Lucifer and Michael to rise from the cage."

Reaching out I clenched tightly to Cas's arms causing him to jump briefly in alarm. I needed something to hold on to because my legs were collapsing on me. Raphael was insane if he thought I would ever go willingly back to that hell.

In a split second he had me enveloped against his side as he tried to support me, as little by little, my body felt like it was shutting down. I knew this wasn't the smartest thing to do but the idea of being back in that room…I just couldn't handle it.

Giving them a defiant glare Castiel stood tall even while holding a crumbling woman at his side.

"You will not get her Raphael. Not as long as I breathe."

"Guess we'll kill two birds with one stone then."

And just like that, with the snap of his fingers, his two Angel body guards rushed towards us. Cas moved to advance on them when one appeared behind us. I had barely caught the shine of the blade in the light right as he moved to strike it down into his back. I'd let out some wordless scream as I brought my arm up to protect him and felt the Angel's blade slice through my skin. Before he could remove it I swiftly brought my elbow up hard into his face and heard the satisfying crunch as the bones in the vessel's face broke.

This time he gave out a gargled scream as he stumbled back with fresh blood streaming down his face. Cas moved to come back and help me but I waved him forward. Grabbing the hilt of the Angels blade, and with one swift motion, I jerked it free from the meat in my forearm.

"Go! I should be able to handle him."

I may not have been as strong as I could've been but I was still strong and I could take a lot of pain. I tried to remember that when the Angel I'd bludgeoned with my elbow kicked me so hard he sent me flying through the air where I ended up slamming into the glass on the other side of the greenhouse.

Off in the distance I could the scuffling of feet and prayed that meant that Castiel was still alive. I didn't have time to double check as I got to my feet as fast as possible before the Angel was on me once more.

I tried to lash out at him with the knife but he easily blocked each blow until finally he knocked it free from my hands. So I moved in, swinging with a right and a left, searching for an opening but he easily blocked each one. When I moved to do a hard kick to his abdomen he caught my leg with ease and slammed me down to the floor just as fast.

I could feel the cement underneath my back give and the promise of broken bones began to blossom along my back as I rolled out of the way of his foot he sent to stomp down on my face. Everything hurt in my back but instead of focusing on it I used the pain to push me forward.

I was able to block two of his blows before the third one connected hard with my cheek. This time the cracking noise I heard was my own face and the pain was excruciating. I hit him once but he easily countered it and before I realized it had happened, he jammed the Angel blade into my gut, took it out, and slammed it back into the middle of my back. He was no doubt trying to paralyze me but he had missed by what felt like mere inches. When I didn't crumble to the floor he slammed a heavy fist down onto my collarbone that sent me crumbling to my knees.

I could still feel that damnable blade sticking out of my back.

"What's wrong Whore? You seem to be all out of practice," he mocked.

He spit down at me and I hated him. I could barely see him clearly since the blood had gotten into my vision but I could see him well enough.

"I still got enough to get it up."

Lifting up my hands I whispered the Latin quickly. He knew what I was doing and was trying to make his move to stop me but he was too late. When he did reach me his vessel was already coughing up needles but still he was coming.

"Persistent little bastard-"

I reached out my hand towards him one last time but this time I tried calling that fire that was a part of me. I called for it and waited to begin to feel the sensation of heat and rushing blood but nothing came. I was hollow.

I screamed wordlessly as I took my hand back from his arm and he laughed at me. Even though he was coughing up needless, he laughed. I tried to reach behind me to grab a hold of the Angel blade but the bastard had stuck it just out of reach. Now my fingers were just fumbling in frustration and I had no other option. He was still trying to get to me and the only way to stop him was to kill him.

Moving my shoulder blades I tried to get a feel for where the blade was exactly. If it really was near my spine and hit it just right I would be paralyzed and then I wouldn't be able to do shit. I kicked him as hard as I could in his face as I scrambled myself backwards until I was far enough away from him to give myself time to get up if this worked.

Using the glass wall of the greenhouse I got myself wobbly on my feet. I backed up a few more inches, took a deep breath, and let myself fall backwards towards the cement with the hilt of the blade connecting with it first.

There is no way to describe what it felt like having something rip its way through ligament, tissue, muscle, and bone. The pain is indescribable and instantly I hated myself for ever coming up with the idea.

I could hear faintly the sound of gurgling and I realized that it was me. As my throat continued to fill with blood, my body involuntarily coughed, desperate for air, and sending a spray of it out and around me.

Worst idea I've ever had.

Glancing down I saw that the blade had almost completely blown clean through my chest and my lovely attacker was almost on me again. I didn't have time to rest or chastise myself for the stupid ideas that take first place in all stupid idea contests. I barely had a fraction of a minute left before he would be on me; so reaching down I took the blade in hand and removed the rest of the blade from my chest. I did scream this time loud and wordlessly as I lurched up, with the blade in hand, and slammed it home in the chest of a very surprised and unsuspecting Angel.

As he looked from me to the blade I released my hand from it and let myself fall back against the cement. The brightest light imaginable filled the room and seconds later I felt his vessels large body land on top of me.

I had no energy to push him off as black dots began to dance around my vision. Somewhere off in the background I could hear someone calling my name. I couldn't reply back; my throat was too full of blood.

The owner of the voice soon stepped into view, and of course, it was Cas. I should've known it was Cas. He didn't look bad; the blood on his clothes most likely wasn't his. He kept trying to talk to me however, and I wanted to tell him I couldn't talk back.

He pushed the dead man off of me and pulled me too my feet. Once he had me on my feet the blood that had been pooling in my throat escaped free and suddenly I felt disgusting and nausea took hold.

"-out of here."

That's all I had caught before he Angel whisked us out of my once beautiful greenhouse; my own little private Eden now ruined. The teleporting bullshit had been too much and the second my feet hit solid ground I slid out of his arms, landing hard on my knees and hands on someone elses carpet, and threw up.

"What in the hell?"

That voice was loud and new. I tried raising my head to look up at this man as he made his way towards me but all I could capture was boots and jeans headed my way. Were we fighting?

"Bobby," Castiel's voice demanded, yet pleaded. "I can explain-"

I didn't catch anything else as the black spots finally won.

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><p>I really hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter. Next one should be up really soon.<p>

As always, I'd love to know what you guys think. Your input is always appreciated and helps give me inspiration to keep going with this :)

I love you all & thank you so much for reading!


	7. Welcome to your new home

**A/N: So I know it's been a while so without further ado Chapter 7! Enjoy!**

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><p>The residue of death was still on my skin and lingered, like a light musk, in the air.<p>

The stench that hit my nose was the harsh scent that went with exposed flesh and organs; blood had stiffened my clothes and I wondered how long I had been out this time. When I took in a deep breathe, my lungs expanding painfully, I caught the end of a hoarse gasp that wasn't my own.

I still hadn't opened my eyes. Mostly because I always hated the milky vision that always seemed to happen. Attempting to look around or focus on anything always ended up making me sick. So I waited and listened as what sounded like a clunky pair of boots hit the hardwood floor. The rustling of papers coming from the same direction as the boots letting me know it had to be someone that wasn't Cas.

Castiel was always eerily quiet. Even more so when he was lost in thought.

I waited in the silence for a while longer. My chest felt heavy as I took in deep breathes. The room had grown insanely tense as I continued to lie there. I figured if I'd just kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep maybe everything would relax. Fat chance.

The longer I waited the more that charge of anticipation bit along my skin like if it poked me enough I would just get up which, was more than true.

Inhaling deeply, I readied myself to get up. I was excited to stretch. My body felt extremely sore as if it had just been a part of an epic battle or something but I knew that was just the lasting effects of the rigor leaving my body.

When I moved to stretch my arms over my head I finally noticed the cool touch of metal around my wrists and the grave rattling of chains. My cuffed wrists caught hard midway through the raise, jerking my waist, sending the most uncomfortable feeling down my spine. My eyes instantly flew open; milky vision be damned.

Luckily all I had to endure for a few seconds was some dizziness as my eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit room. Glancing down, I lifted up my conjoined wrists, as high as they would go. My vision may have still been blurry but I could still see the rusted chain that had been connected to my wrists, waist, and ankles. I sure wasn't going to be going anywhere any time soon.

The sound of boots shuffling on the floor drew my attention away from my main predicament and into another: who else was in the room with me?

I could only assume it was the one who had chained me and left me here on the couch but why would Cas allow him to do that? Had he just left me here with whoever this person was?

Panic threatened to consume me as I turned to look at a middle-aged man holding a shotgun loosely in his hand as he took small steps towards me. He stopped moving when he noticed I was looking at him now. His grip on the gun tightening no doubt wanting to train it on me to keep me from doing anything to him. I could understand that but I wasn't much for guns. When they went off it hurt getting hit by that much force and it hurt even worse when the body rejected the bullets later.

I suppose I had to stay calm because the only person who was going to be able to help me was, well, me. Looks like I was off to a winning start…

So I tried for a welcoming smile and felt my lips crack at the strain. My eyes tightened at the sudden pain but I tried to fight through it. By the look on my brand new guards face it wasn't working. I probably looked irritable instead of calm.

I lifted my hands as high off of my lap as they would go with my hands spread open as a white flag to show I meant no harm. He eyed me warily as his fingers drummed against the side of the shotgun.

I gave him a wave with my fingers and said, "Hi there."

I had tried for chipper and instead it sounded like I had been chain smoker for the last thousand years of my life.

Again, the man in front of me showed no sign of answering me. He just continued to watch me as I attempted to adjust myself slight on the couch. The springs were starting to dig into my butt.

"Where'd you find this beauty?" I grumbled motioning towards the couch.

Silence was my answer.

"Okay, there gramps think I might get a glass of water. My throats a little on the uh, rough side."

When he made no sign that he was going to reply to anything I either said or asked I just rolled my eyes and went to pull the stiff fabric of my shirt away from my skin. The sudden movement along with the rattling of the chains must have spooked my silent companion because the sound of the shotgun cocking forced my attention back to him.

I was frozen in place. My hands hovered over my shirt; my breath catching.

"Easy ther-"

"You should be dead!"

I blinked. I'd heard his words plainly as if he had shouted them at me but it seemed I was having a hard time processing them. Castiel wouldn't just drop me off at some random stranger's house, would he? Knowing about my special…condition.

Sparing a glance around the houses I noticed the stacks of books; the random assortment of papers that were scattered on the floor, shelves, and his desk. There was no way he could be any sort of federal, business, or government employee because his filing was a disaster. They also, I was sure, didn't run around with what looked like a sawed-off shotgun in their home.

Before my eyes returned to his steely gaze and the barrel of the shotgun, I looked down at the chains that he'd secured around me while I'd been out.

Iron.

The obvious go to choice for any Hunter who didn't know what the hell they were dealing with.

Strange how the thought of being held captive by a Hunter eased my mind. Apparently while I had been out I had also come back insane.

"Yeah I should be…but I'm not. I'd also really not like to experience it again so soon either, if it's any conciliation," I finally answered him. "Also, the iron isn't going to hurt me nor is it going to keep me trapped. Just a uh, friendly FYI. "

I was still trying to play friendly with this man. Keeping my eyes pleasant and my face relaxed no matter how cold his eyes grew. I could tell he was letting his head wrap around what I'd just told him. Whatever he'd concluded wasn't in my favor. He'd lifted the shotgun back up with purpose; training it perfectly for my face.

Jesus Christ I hoped he wasn't a trigger happy kind of Hunter.

"Why ain't ya?"

"I thought Castiel would've told you?" I countered.

"He didn't tell me jack when he dropped you off here. He just told me to watch out after ya until he got back."

"Huh."

I bit my lip as I eyed him and the gun.

"You gonna drop the gun yet?"

"Maybe but first, you and me, we're gonna do a little experimenting."

"This does not sound pleasant," I moaned.

"If you come out positive, it won't be."

His assurance was not comforting as he dropped the gun and made his way towards me, pulling out what looked to be a silver blade from his back pocket, I was even less comforted.

"I'm not a Shifter or anything," I sputtered as he pressed the cool metal of the blade against my skin.

"Your protesting ain't gonna help you none."

Without further hesitation he drew the blade quickly across my skin. A sharp hiss left me as I bit back the scream that built in my throat. From the look on this man's face I knew he wasn't going to be satisfied until he had tested me with everything. He didn't trust me; that much I could see in his cold and weathered blue eyes.

He wanted to know what I was. Whatever I turned out to be to him it didn't matter he just wanted the assurance of knowing. So that way if I got out of hand he'd known how to kill me. It wasn't a large leap for me to come to that conclusion. It had been that way with every Hunter I had encountered over the years. It never mattered that I was helpful to them and never gave them a reason to dislike me, it just didn't matter.

It seemed the moment they realized I was different, that I wasn't human, I was no longer a person or ally to them. I just became another creature that they hated and wanted to kill. In my own way I could sympathize with them. I'd had hundreds of years to learn how to let go and move on.

The natural human life span was already a short one. Some people were lucky if they lived well into their 80's. A Hunters life span however, was even smaller than that. They were lucky to even live into their 40's most of the time and every single one that I'd ever met was reckless, and in part, foolish. Their overwhelming hatred for the monsters in the world, shading their better judgment; the urge for constant revenge curdling their blood until it was their life's only purpose.

No Hunter chose this life. It was always one that had been violently thrust upon them. Just like the imperturbable man that stood before me. He handed me a glass of water mixed with salt. I raised my chained wrists up slowly and took it from him.

If this is what he needed then I would give it to him. Besides, he was the guy with the shotgun.

I swirled the water around to re-mix the salt and water before I took a large mouth full.

"Ah, I see you are awake."

My mouth full of water I'd just taken came spraying out.

"Goddamn it!"

The older man wiped his free hand across his pants as if the water was somehow going to burn him. Castiel, on the other hand, casually just walked into the room like nothing had happened.

"Cas! Would you please tell him I'm not a Demon or anything creepy!"

He obliged me by turning to the man and said, "She is not a Demon or anything creepy. She is the Instrument of Heaven."

"I'm not that either! I'm not that either," I said the last leaning towards the man.

"Instrument of Heaven?" He looked at both of us skeptically as he moved to set his shotgun against his desk. "She doesn't look like any type of heavenly weapon I've ever seen."

"You should know Bobby that looks can be deceiving."

Bobby's face tightened for a brief second before he waved Cas's words off. His arms crossing defensively in front of his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be dropping off…whatever she is?" he waved a dismissing hand at me.

I made a face at him and his gesture.

"She is a girl, Bobby. A normal human girl," Cas replied his voice tight.

"Yeah right and us normal humans can magically heal ourselves and come back from the dead."

I chuckled at the look on his face. When Bobby turned to give me a piece of that look I quickly stopped, clearing my throat.

"Why did you bring her here anyways, Cas?"

"I need you to watch over her."

"Watch over her?'

"Watch over me?"

We'd both asked the same question. The disbelief in both of our voices ringing loud and clear. Castiel was his normal stonewall self never taking his deep blue eyes off of the older man.

"Yes."

"I don't know if you noticed but the girl is self-healing-"

"The girl is also right here, yeah know," I added.

The two of them seemed to ignore me completely.

"The process of regeneration is slow. You saw how long it took. If Dea had been up to full strength it wouldn't have slowed her down; the damage would've easily been healed in seconds."

"You mean to tell me she heals faster than this?"

"Much faster. Her strength is also minimal I'd like to ask that you help her train."

"Train? What am I Angelo Dundee?"

"I don't-"

Cas stopped mid-sentence his face constricting in tight lines of confusion. Bobby just waved him off.

"Don't understand that reference, I got it and the answer is no."

"No?"

"I didn't stutter-"

"Why not? She means you no harm I can assure you."

Bobby didn't look convinced in the slightest as he eyed me briefly before turning his attention back on Cas.

"And you can be so sure of that?"

"Yes-"

"A hundred percent?" he interrupted.

"Yes."

This time when Cas said it, his voice held an edge to it that it hadn't before. His patience looked to be wearing thin. Probably not being able to comprehend why Bobby wouldn't just take him at his word. Bobby didn't seem to care how annoyed Castiel was; the older man refused to budge.

"You just expect me to trust her? Cas, I don't even know what she is."

"For the last time!" I shouted, startling the both of them. "I am right here! If you have questions to ask about me why don't you _ask me_?"

The room swelled with silence as they both just stared at me. By now I was just annoyed. I was still chained in these rusty iron chains, my stiff bloody clothes beginning to make my skin itch, and I was pretty sure the nasty smell in the room was me.

Squaring his shoulders Bobby dropped his arms down to his sides and turned to give me his full attention.

"Alright…why should I even trust you?"

"Look, Bobby?" I tested. When he didn't dismiss me or tell me not to use his name I took it as a promising start. "I'm not asking you to trust me right away all I'm asking is that you give me the chance to earn it. Sound fair?"

Bobby's jaw tightened and loosened as his eyes searched my face, for what? Sincerity? I kept my face calm and lax, knowing that I didn't have to prove anything because I'd meant what I'd said. If this was someone that Castiel trusted enough to leave me here with when I was down (besides the fact I'd ended up chained like a prisoner) then that had to count for something.

"Alright but we have a few rules to go over," he resigned.

I nodded my head in acknowledgement.

"Your house, your rules."

"First off, why exactly does she need to be trained and hidden at my house?"

Neither of those questions was directed at me and Castiel didn't wait to answer them.

"Raphael won't stop until he finds her and if he finds her, let's just say the results will be catastrophic."

"So the usual then," Bobby grumbled as he walked a few steps over to his desk.

"The training is mostly for the benefit of her being less helpless."

"Hey!" I pouted. "I'm not_ that_ helpless."

Cas just gave me a look before heavy boots caught my attention as Bobby came into view. He froze in place, his hands still holding the key to undue the locks on chains. He reminded me of a frightened deer but we both knew he wasn't really frightened, more like, dangerously alert and ready to blow my face off if I did anything he didn't like.

He was ready to take me down again and probably bury me somewhere if he had too. Bobby may have agreed to let me in the house but he still didn't trust me but I figured this wasn't going to be easy, and hopefully, over time he would begin to trust me.

Taking in a sharp breath he regained his composure and finished what he'd come over to do. The minute the locks were taken off the chains began to slide loose and I quickly got up and wiggled the rest of the way out of them. I was on my feet in a matter of seconds.

Bobby moved back a safe distance before he asked, "So, uh…what do I call ya?"

"The name's Dea."

His eyes flickered with, no, recognition? He turned his head sharply in Cas's direction; his pale face growing redder with what I could only assume was anger. A lot of anger.

"You probably want to freshen up. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs to the right."

Why was I getting the feeling I was being dismissed so the grownups could talk? For a few seconds I just sort of stood there, wanting to know what he was so obviously trying to keep from me. But I had already tested his hospitality enough also; the man had offered me a shower.

Without a second thought I sprang forward ignoring my stiff bones as I made my way up the stairs, whistling the whole way.

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><p><strong>Castiel's POV<strong>

The minute she had said her name I knew I was in trouble.

Bobby's normally flushed face seemed to be redder than seemed appropriate. When he shoved me into the kitchen and his words came sputtering out, I knew my earlier assumption had been right.

"You wanna tell me why this girl just happens to have the same name that Dean had asked you about? The same name of the girl he had sworn up and down he'd met. Please tell me that this is not the same girl and you didn't lie to the boy."

"Bobby, it's complicated-"

"Complicated my ass! For months that boy still believed that she was real and that she was out there. He believed that we had just left her to die; that he had _failed_ her. Afterwards the boy honestly wondered if he had just gone crazy and made it all up to make himself feel better. How could you have let Dean think she wasn't real when you knew she was this whole time?"

He was shouting now; spittle falling with each word as he walked towards me. His hands were in tight fists when he ended just an inch away from me.

I wasn't really worried about an actual fight ensuing. If it came down to that I would simply put him to sleep and lay him on the couch. But I couldn't do that without informing him of what he needed to know.

"Sam and Dean cannot know that she is alive."

"Why?"

"Because Dea is to serve a purpose Bobby! The boys will only get in the way of that, or worse, she'll want to help them."

"And what is so goddamn wrong with that?"

"She has a destiny to fulfill! I need you to train her, to get her back to her full strength, or as close to it as you can get."

"Yeah that might be possible IF I KNEW WHAT THE HELL SHE WAS!"

"Quiet!"

"This is my house and if I want to yell, well goddamn it, I'm gonna yell!"

"Fine! If you promise not to tell the boys I'll tell you what she is; I'll tell you anything you want to know."

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><p><strong>I honestly want to thank you guys for all the story alerts, favorites, and reviews I've been getting. I've been kind of stuck in a rut and when I got the notifications it just makes my day and made me strive to get back on and write these next coming chapters! SO THANK YOU! You are all so wonderful and I freaking adore you (:<strong>

**The next chapter heads into 6x01 but I think I'm going to have some Soulless!Sam POV in it, if you guys don't mind. **

**As always, I'd love to know what you guys are thinking (: and thanks so much for reading!**


	8. Moving on From The Past

**I know it's been a while. Like, a loooong while. I've been away with school; finishing up my EMT certification and giving birth to my baby girl. But hopefully this story is still good and still has some good promise. **

**The beginning starts with a third person point of view then goes back to first. Bear with me, I beg of you! They'll all be coming together soon. I also am trying to write soulless Sam in this chapter and onward. It's a little daunting if you know what I mean. This is also where I'll be bringing in a little bit of Dea's back story so hopefully it all ties together well and everyone gets to know the character. Anyways, I hope you lovelies enjoy!**

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><p><span><strong>Dea<strong>

Time seemed to have moved slower while she'd been in the shower. She'd taken her time making sure she'd scrubbed trying to get all the bits of dried blood that she could off. As she came down the stairs she noticed as she rubbed the towel against her still damp head, that she'd been in the shower for over an hour. Maybe longer than that since she'd spent a few moments just sitting on the bed in the bedroom Bobby had shown her not too long ago.

Outside the sun had already begun to set. The only thing left of the day was the blood orange hue that streaked across the bottom of the blinds. It added the only light she could see at the bottom of the stairs.

Bobby Singer's house was as silent as the dead. It was strange to think that a house could feel alive like it had just a few moments ago. It'd been animated with a presence all its own, which was amazing for a house this size. Now that all the chaotic business of earlier had concluded the house suddenly took on a lonesome feel now that no one else was around. It left a dull ache in the bones and a tightness in your chest that begged for some kind of warmth.

The dim halls felt menacing and the amount of closed doors that faced her made the space feel claustrophobic. The only saving grace was the illumination from what little of the sun was left inside the kitchen.

Taking the last step off the stairs, Dea made her way gradually towards the kitchen. Her hands tightened in the towel.

_Why am I acting like this? It's not like I can freakin' die anyway…_

The answer came to her simply: It wasn't that she was scared to die. It was the idea that her new buddy would try and kill her. For some reason Dea wanted Bobby to trust her and maybe, if she was lucky, _like_ her. That part of her that struggled for normalcy wanted, almost willed for it, to have Bobby not view her as the freak she'd been all of her life.

But wanting friends was a stupid idea and wanting to get close to _anyone _was an even more stupid idea than the first.

_You know what happens_, she thought, chastising as she gave herself brief reminders of what happened when she did try to make friends.

Loneliness was worse than death, but it was something that Dea had learned to regard as her safety net. The alternatives were more painful and she already had enough centuries of memories of that pain to last her, well…a lifetime.

Shaking of the last memory she could even bare to think of she continued her decent towards the kitchen. Her hands now constricting the towel for new reasons as she took in a deep breath. She braced herself for whatever was about to happen.

Dea hadn't gone more than a few steps when the light crackle of a fire sounded in the dim hallway behind her. Taking that step back, she turned and faced two great wooden doors.

To enter or not enter became the sudden dilemma.

She extended out her hand slowly towards the door. The cold brass of the doors handles sending an unwanted shiver down her spine.

A small tremor brought her attention to her hand on the door, and found her knuckles white and bloodless. Her hand shaking lightly.

This all seemed inconceivably ridiculous, but as ridiculous as it seemed, Dea couldn't get rid of the nagging image of Bobby waiting, shotgun ready, for her to open that door. She may not die but a bullet was still a bullet. Death was still death and damn it all to hell if coming back from the dead didn't hurt like a son of a bitch.

When she did finally open the door, however, she didn't find him gun at the ready (although it was sitting off to the side of the desk). Instead he was leaning heavily back in his chair. A glass filled a quarter of the way with an amber liquid that disappeared into his mouth as quickly as she seen it.

He swallowed hard, setting the glass roughly on the table sending it sliding a few inches away from him on the desk. Bobby leaned forward discarding the book that had rested on his thigh. The book was much louder than the glass. It's momentum lifting up pages of loose papers and other opened books that we're scattered in front of him.

"_You_. There."

Bobby pointed at the chair that sat directly in front of him. The words had come out like a crocked growl; the whiskey tenting his voice like it had worn it out.

Dea didn't think twice. She moved.

She sat, back straight, facing him. She let her eyes wonder around the books strewn across the desk. Sometimes even looking down to take a close look at the fibers in the carpet; before she ever looked back up at him.

For what had felt like a small eternity he finally moved. He kept a wary eye on her as he moved to pour himself another drink, downed it just as fast, and immediately went into it.

"I know what you are."

Bobby stated it plainly. He sounded tired, but she made no mistake, underneath all that tired was a malice she couldn't mistake.

Dea's back went rigid. The words stinging as if they'd bit her.

"How many drinks have you had?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the glass.

"Enough to have this conversation."

Silence swallowed the room after that.

Both of them sat in a dueling match of wits to see who'd break first. The ticking of a dozen different clocks had never felt so ominous until that moment.

"What have you been reading?"

"Anything and everything I could find in the last hour on the woman known as Dea." Grabbing the bottle of whiskey he leaned back into the chair, seeming to forget all about the bottle just as fast as he'd grabbed it. "To be quite honest I'm not quite sure what to make of it. It took me almost an entire hour to realize that 'Dea' was short for Amedea. In the actual texts they call you monster or demon. In some, they claim you are an angel of vengeance, but in almost all of them they call you the, 'Harbinger.'"

_You will not flinch._

"What I find most intriguing _Dea_ is the last entry I read. They start calling you, _Nephilim_."

This time Dea did flinch. The corners of her mouth moved into a tight smirk as she looked away from him.

"What's so funny?"

Bobby was not as tickled.

Clearing her throat she replied, "I can assure you Bobby that I am not Nephilim."

"From what I've read you can kill Demons _and_ Angels. You have traits of both Demon and Angel in you but show no traces of their weaknesses."

"But I do have weaknesses Bobby. All….creatures do and Nephilim can be killed. I, unfortunately, cannot. To become Nephilim you must also be the offspring of a Demon and an Angel and from what I know of neither of my parents where. Quite the opposite actually. My mother, from what I remember, was the town whore until she married my father…who was the town priest. I think that hardly qualifies."

By the end she was faintly smiling. It was hard to keep it though every time she looked over at his stern face. Bobby did not find this as amusing as she did. This time instead of pouring a glass he took a sip straight from the bottle. When he was finished he just gave her a sour look.

"What? It's my damn bottle, anyways."

Once more the room swelled with their silence but she knew that more questions still hung in the air and she was tired and wanted to get this over with.

"You look good for being almost four hundred years old. You don't look like no corpse either-"

"I can't hurt you, you know," Dea cut in.

He slammed the bottle down on the desk. The liquid sloshed around angrily inside. A look of wondrous contempt displayed on his middle-aged face making the crow's feet around his eyes show even more as his eyes narrowed on her.

"Bullshit! You expect me to believe that after all the crap I'd just read on you?!"

"It's the truth! I'm sure that while I was up there taking a shower Castiel informed you where I had been for the past eight years. That demons had been drugging me with whatever the hell that substance was-"

"To make you comatose but not weak."

"That's where you would be wrong, old man."

"Hey, watch who you're calling old. Last I checked I had a _lot _of catching up to do before I'm anywhere near your age."

"My age isn't the point."

"You're right; the point is the things you chose to do and _did_ with those extra years added onto your life. That's what counts."

"What do you want me to say, Bobby?!"

Dea screamed it so loud her lungs quivered from the lack of air. Her body was shaking; her eyes burning. She would b*e damned if she would cry in front of him, but the disbelief on his face stung. Why it mattered so much to have him, for just a second, believe in her she couldn't say.

For once, Dea just didn't want to be looked at like the monster she knew she had been and knew she could be.

Something must have clicked in him. His hands had slid underneath the desk. No doubt holding onto a revolver or pistol of some sort to give him comfort. She wanted to let herself think that the look on his face had softened because he felt an inch of pity for her. That wasn't the case, though. She knew that look better than anything along with the stench that it left that choked the air like a wicked scent.

Bobby Singer was scared of her.

"I just want you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you, Bobby. But you aren't giving me much leeway here for anything I say to be taken that way."

After a few moments, his hands drifted back up to the top of the desk as he took in a deep breath before saying, "I know. I've learned over the years that it's hard to take anything a…creature says to heart as honest. The only time I've learned they tell the truth is when they're about to kill you or about to be killed."

She nodded in agreement.

"True. I, however, am neither a monster nor a creature, Bobby. I'm a human being. A human being who became the unfortunate target of a spiteful angel's hatred…and I've been living with the repercussions of that and the choices I've made for the past two thousand years. I didn't ask for this to be done to me. I'm not all too sure who would. I just wanted to live a simple and boring life. I wanted to find love, get married, have kids, have grandkids, get fat and old and die. But it was taken from me. I've made some pretty unforgivable choices, I'll admit that. But you try living as long as I have; dealing with the betrayal, unbearable resentment, and constant grief and you tell me that you wouldn't make a few regrettable choices during your long lifetime. I maybe a lot of things, Bobby Singer, but at the heart of it I am just like you. I've just had the unfortunate event of not being allowed the peace to die."

They sat there in companionable silence as he looked her over. His features hardening and creasing as he thought, then relaxing as he seemed to come to a conclusion that suited his question.

"If I ask you to tell me the truth…will you? And don't think you can jerk me around because I may not be as old as you, but I ain't stupid."

"I promise I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

After looking her over one more time, Bobby leaned back in his chair. The chair itself creaking in protest as he tried to find a comfortable spot.

"I want you to start from the beginning," he began. "And don't leave anything out."

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><p><strong><span>SOULLESS!SAM<span>**

Samuel looked over at his grandson, how sinister and hell bent Sam was, staring at the road ahead of him. He felt shell shocked. He'd just witnessed Sam beating a sheriff, almost to death; a human and for no real reason other than so they didn't get arrested. They could have taken him out easily and left him to wake up, with a minor headache, and a feeling of being ridiculous. Maybe even a little embarrassed, but instead Sam had just…snapped. He didn't even bat an eyelash at how he'd left the man crumbled, crippled, in a heap next to the squad car. When Sam had demanded that they leave right after the assault, Samuel had stopped next to the fallen man to make sure he was, in fact, still alive.

Glancing over at Sam now you would have never known he'd done something so heinous a mere three hours ago. Except for the dried russet splatter on his knuckles.

"Got a problem, Samuel?"

Sam's voice was cool as it cut through the unsettling stillness in the cab. Somehow, Samuel found it even more eerie in the small space.

"Nothing just…" They both knew that Samuel had been affected by what he had seen. The tension that radiated off of him didn't go unnoticed by Sam. He'd just been waiting for this moment when the older man had finally found the balls to say something. "-you didn't have to beat the kid so bad."

"What was I supposed to do? Let him just arrest us? We don't have time to go through the motions of pleasantries, and I tried to reason with him-"

"Don't lie to me, Sam! Just…don't"

Samuel's voice held how tired he felt, turning to look out the window, looking as far out as he could get from Sam.

Sam on the other hand wasn't worried about the old man and was happy he had dropped the subject. To pretend that he even gave a shit was becoming exhausting. Maybe not so much exhausting and more along the lines of a major annoyance. It was funny to him how sometimes his grandfather decided to have a conscious all of the sudden. It always happened at random times and _always _when Samuel thought Sam had gone farther than he could stomach.

When Sam had first came back Samuel never seemed to be worried about the rules or how he would obtain his information. Sam had been impressed with how swift he got the job done; not caring about the casualties that may have had a little blood spilled her and there. It felt like a damn perfect fit but now, Samuel had grown a conscious it seemed. Sam realized that if it started to become too much of an issue he would have to consider a way to…handle the situation.

"Why are we stopping by Singers' place again?" Samuel grumbled next to him. Acting like the grumpy ass old man that he was.

"I told you. If we're going to run the risk of Dean spotting us while trying to protect him, I'm gonna need to see if Bobby will help with the back draft."

"I still don't like it."

"You don't have too."

Those four words held such authority and finality, that Samuel turned to his grandson, obviously startled. As surprised as he was he didn't say another word and Sam couldn't have been happier.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Dea <strong>

2 weeks later

A couple weeks had gone by since that night in Bobby's study. It had been an extremely long night; discussing the good and bad of my too long of a life. For a while I felt like the more I talked and the more I answered his questions, it had only made things worse.

When we had started his face had been so scrunched up in what I could only assume was unease about the whole situation. I didn't have to actually _see _the revolver to know that it had been there. He and I both knew that it wouldn't have done much but it made him feel secure. Half way through our discussion, I'd watched as his arm finally relaxed. Bobby most likely holstering it back somewhere underneath the table.

By the end he had just stared at me; his whole body still with a quiet that could've been ghost like, while his eyes darted in the stillness. His mind racing as he tried to process everything that had been shared between us.

The fire had been cracking behind his chair. The crimson light illuminating behind him giving Bobby a menacing feel that felt silly. It had been the only sound that had occupied the silence. Bobby had surprised me at the end, however, choosing to believe the craziness that had been my life because, "Hell, what isn't possible?" He'd said to me. His body slumped even farther in the old chair, sounding as grouchy as ever.

Since then he'd set me up with a room that had been located a few doors away from his. At the end of week one, Bobby had told me we would begin getting me back into hunting shape. In the beginning it had been slow and made me feel like I was a baby. He made me take a part, clean, and put back together every gun he owned and that was a lot. He wasn't ready to let me shoot just yet so all I continued to do was clean, clean, and oh hey! Clean some more.

When he had started testing my strength (fighting skills along with it) I'd ended up with a bloody nose. It had felt broken and Bobby had been worried, but when I had turned back to him, my nose completely fine, he'd had a hard time letting it go.

Bobby couldn't help every time I was hurt to react as if it was life-threatening. It surprised me every time when he reacted; ready to take me to the ER if the situation called for it. Somewhere along the line I noticed he didn't think of me the way he had in the beginning. He treated me like I was a normal, average, human being. But whenever I was injured…that glint of uncertainty shown through.

We'd made dinners together in silence at first until the following week, he'd started opening up to me about his life. His own pain and loss that he had gone through. The in between and mentioning how certain "boys" that he had taken care of over the years had given him a new meaning. He never went into too much detail about them, but it wasn't hard to catch the tremendous amount of love that he had from them. Every once in a while on a good day he would talk more about them; stories of them camping or taking them out to do things that he felt like they had been denied by their own father.

I loved seeing this side of Bobby. It was sincere and a rare, pure side of love that I had never seen.

After that, training became smoother and dinners became more of a time to converse than to eat.

The only thing I hated about the open nature of our relationship was the dreams that started up after. It felt amazing to be able to just have someone to talk too. Being able to open up to Bobby and know that he understood, as much as he could, and not feel the weight of judgment from him.

But after opening up to Bobby about the darkness I tried to forget…that's when the dreams had started. Slowly, they got worse. Every night I'd lay in bed terrified to fall asleep and when I finally did, without fail, I would see her.

Her body lifeless and battered; the brutal attack she had endured making it hard for me to really recognize her. As I came closer to camp her body swayed in time with the breeze; acting like a pendulum counting down the seconds in slow motion as I drew closer to her. It felt like I was walking under water. The tightness in my chest feeling overwhelming as I moved towards her.

The painful ache that reverberated through me always became crushing; suffocating me until I wanted to fall to my knees and wailed, letting the agony out as hot and angry tears rolled down my cheeks.

After long moments in this pain I remembered the hours that passed as I continued to watch her. My eyes being unable to tear away from the horror that had been bestowed upon me. The misery of knowing she had been alone; died alone and terrified. The anger that rose up inside of me raged like a fire that consumed me until it was all I felt.

That was the beginning of the dark path I had chosen to take. I remembered in waves the things I had done and the total and complete power I had gained. Even in my sleep it had felt beyond euphoric; the life force of someone else surging through my veins as fire licked at their still bodies. I was lost in this bliss for a while until the screams started. Cries of pain that reminded me why I fought so hard for redemption. That momentary lapse in judgment, in being so young, and letting my wrath be my path maker.

And in this, that one annoying, yet persistent, Angel that had saved me from myself.

I always went back to 1692. My mind being forced there by a theatrical slingshot. It took me back to the day everything had changed; back out into the field of trees with my sister and a few ladies from the village. We'd been out to pick mushrooms and walnuts for the fall festival. The oldest lady of the group, Margaret LuVian, had been telling a silly joke about her husband, Adam, when three men had stepped out of the shrubs to the East of us.

The laughter had ended abruptly as all the women went on high alert. These were strange men. None of us recognizing them from the village. They were filthy as if they had been moving a long distance on foot. They had holes in their clothing and smelled worse than they looked. I had taken MaryAnne by her hand and moved her behind me. Never letting her go.

The movement had caused the man in the middle to smile at them; smile at MaryAnne. My grip on her hand tightened as he moved towards us. His milky vision secured on my sister as he took clunky steps towards us. When he had been in front of me he demanded I move to give my sister to him. I had met his request with a stern look and told him to go to hell. That had earned me to be struck for the first time. He had hit me with such force it had dazed me; my body instantly going slack for a moment as I stumbled to the floor.

I remember hearing MaryAnne screaming. The women screaming even louder as I struggled to get up. The men were livid now. Stupid women weren't listening and had to be punished. The goons that followed the greasy haired louse that had struck me down was now on top of my sister. Pining her to the leaf ridden dirt floor of the forest as a too friendly hand lifted up her skirts.

I had gathered mine as I had risen and ran over to him, kicking him as hard as I could and succeeded in getting him off. I moved to lift MaryAnne up when a scream cut from her lips as I froze. A piercing pain radiated through me and suddenly I couldn't even breathe. I followed her horrified eyes as I realized that I had the very pointy end of a blade stick out of my chest.

The first time I had ever been stabbed and murdered. My body had already shut down from shock as he removed the blade and shoved me down into the dirt. The women were screaming even louder now; I could hear pleading from MaryAnne. I wanted to save her but I couldn't because I couldn't feel my legs. My vision blurred and then there was darkness.

That was the first time I had died and the first time I had risen. The women had still been in a pile around one another; dresses torn and mending one another. When I had come screaming awake. Eyes wild as I inhaled deeply as I forced so much air into my dead lungs I coughed.

I had come back to life and no one was happy. It didn't matter that I was just as confused and as scared as everyone else around me. I was young and what I knew of violence had only existed in that moment that had taken my life and changed it forever. But they'd been frightened beyond reason and instantly they believed me to be a witch and the violence I knew after held no comparison.

They had attacked me without mercy not believing me when I had told them about the angel. The magnificence of his glow, and how he'd come into my room and attacked me. It had been true. An idealistic and hateful angel who had been livid that my father was being worshiped over _his _father. False idols must be torn down. Why he had chosen me I will never know but Raphael held no mercy, and neither did any of them.

"_It was the devil!" _I could hear them shout. The greatest trickster of them all and one of gods most beautiful. They screamed I had been a fool and the devil had taken my soul. I had looked to my father; my eyes begging for him to say he'd seen it too. He'd rushed in after hearing my screams, the look of amazed horror making his face shine in the brilliance of the celestial light. I had called out for my father to save me, pleading with him. My reply had only been him spitting in my face.

I endured the pain of their trials; the first drowning by stone. When I didn't drown, pushing the rock off of my chest, and swam to the surface they all bellowed and howled in rage. Fear motivating them to kill what they couldn't understand. They couldn't fathom the idea that I had died twice while under the weight of that rock. All before I could remove the rock off of my chest.

All the while I thought, was I an abomination? Humans shouldn't die and come back. I didn't even understand what I was anymore or why god had allowed this to be.

The water hadn't killed me so the townsfolk called for me to burn. I'd fought and screamed to be released and cried in vain. I screamed and asked why would they do this to me? They knew me! But they couldn't see beyond their fear and I was met with persistent blows until I fell silent. Soon I was tied to the pike and the torch of fire swam from the middle of the crowd and finally burst into view. That's when MaryAnne burst forward from the crowd, running as fast as she could to reach me. Men chased after her but before they could grab her she got to me first, and hugged me so fiercely I thought the pike would break. I'd whisper words I had hoped comforted her; that it was okay, little sister, even though I was terrified. As soon as they had gotten her to release me the flames embraced me. The pain was unbearable and I screamed as I felt my body melt and my nerves sear; I screamed until my throat was no more and death claimed me.

When I awoke I did so to the gasps of the townsfolk; my body almost crumbled and pieces completely gone; my body reforming as they watched. I heard someone swear and then a sudden boot to my face and darkness claimed me once more.

The last time I awoke in that village, I had done so with a rope already around my neck. I was suspended in the air, my feet dangling, as I had a quick moment to realize that they'd already hanged me. The sound of a whip cracked the air like lightening and the sound of hooves clamored on the cobblestone. I was ripped from the tree with such force I could hear my spine crack; the horse had dragged me miles from town.

In all my dreams of this moment, none of them affected me beyond the sadness and the strange tremor of remembrance my body felt of that day. It was the days that I had been reborn into whatever it is that I am today.

The memories I wished to forget the most, the one that rattled me still to this day, was finding MaryAnne's body on my way into camp. She'd only been sixteen. She'd had so much promise in life and had such a beautiful heart. The damage that had been done to someone so pure is what had broken me. What had bothered me, angered me until my blood turned molten hot, was that no monsters had harmed her. It had been men. Regular average every day men had tortured my baby sister and had strung her up in the trees to rot and be crow food.

The dream of this memory stirred that fire of rage inside me, that when the fire consumed my body as that molten, searing wrath roared inside my veins, my body exploded into pure blue flame. Sending out a shockwave of it out into the forest causing a blow back that knocked trees from their roots and fire consumed more than five hundred feet of forest. The destruction I remember that I had caused in those short minutes had been unimaginable but what came after it…the decades of pain and brutally I had done to others rising up just as fast as the flames.

The flashbacks of all the evil I had committed came rushing in. The witch doctors, demons, necromancers; every supernatural person of knowledge I could find I had went to so I could steal their lives and their secrets. The all consuming passion of that power hummed inside my veins and I cried out in ecstasy.

Soon the screams came; families, humans, monsters, angels, demons; it didn't matter. I was so full of hatred that I allowed my heart to be silenced. Always the little boy yelling for his mommy had me howling from my sleep as flames cascaded up until they swallowed his face. The fear of becoming that…monster again, of it being real all over again, had me lurching out of bed breathing as if I had just run a marathon.

The first couple of nights it happened Bobby had come running into the room. Shotgun ready. But when he had seen it was only me, beads of sweat decorating my skin, my fists clenched tightly to the sheets, he'd realized almost immediately that it had just been a dream.

After the dream came and gone I couldn't go back to sleep. All I could think about was MaryAnne and what I'd done. Five centuries of the hell I'd caused was a lifetime of trying to make things right. Many more have passed but it seemed it would never be enough and all I ever prayed for was that god would either be humble enough to just kill me or make me mortal again. Being whatever the hell I was had gotten old and tiring.

"You okay over there?"

Bobby's sudden question startled me from my thoughts but I didn't turn from the window as I replied, "Yeah just…thinking."

A gruff snort came from his direction, causing me to turn and look at him. He didn't look at me right away; keeping his eyes on the rain drenched road until he decided the coast was clear and finally looked at me.

"Do you have something to add, hillbilly?"

"I was just going to advise you not to strain yourself past your abilities."

I chuckled as I stretched in the seat sparing a glance in his direction. I turned back to the window and the only sound that was heard in the small truck was the transmission and occasionally the suspension that creaked when we went over small bumps.

"What were you thinking about? If you don't mind me asking."

"How much I hate angels."

I smiled over at him but Bobby hadn't found my comment as amusing as I did. He agreed, I knew he did, but he hated it when I brought it up.

"You still stuck on that?" he inquired.

"Gee, I don't know Bobby wouldn't you be upset if an angel came and turned you into something you didn't understand and not even supernatural creatures knew what the hell you were? And you couldn't even die. You tell me Bobby, how would you feel?"

"Fair point."

"Nothing fair about it. I'm a freak."

"You re only what you say you are. You aren't a freak Dea you're just…special."

He fought to find the right word at the end and I couldn't help but laugh at what he had decided would be the best choice.

"Special?" I teased.

"Take it or leave it," he growled.

"Do I get a tiara?" I cooed as I reached over to pet his beard.

Bobby's hand shot up to slap mine away frantically. I leaned back laughing while he clenched both hands hard on the wheel.

"I'll give you a boot up the ass if you do that again."

His response only made me smile as I went back to looking out the window at the North Dakota landscape.

"How much farther to this cemetery again?"


	9. Hello My Long Lost Friend

**Dean and Dea will finally be seeing each other again in this chapter! I'm excited because it finally all gets to start coming together and hopefully you all like it! *Fingers crossed!* Soulless Sam also gets his first run in with her and it is for sure a dozy. **

**Without Further Ado...**`

* * *

><p><span><strong>Dea<strong>

We arrived back at Bobby's a quarter after four in the morning and I was sore and tired as hell. That'll happen when you are being double teamed by two ghouls jumping out of trees and one leaves their teeth in your skin. Now, the wound had healed with four of the things teeth stuck in my shoulder. I wasn't excited for the fact Bobby was going to have to dig them out.

I walked up to the front door, stopping on the stoop to look back and see Bobby parking the truck. He still had to get the hunting bag out of the bed of the truck.

"Hurry up, Hillbilly! I don't want to do this when the sun is rising."

He threw a dissuaded wave in my direction not even responding. Oh well, I moved to open the kitchen's back door when I noticed a shadow moving underneath the door. Quickly, I moved to the side and waited for, whatever it was, moved away from the door.

My adrenaline instantly was raised back up. My heart like a hammer in my chest as I grabbed for the door handle and moved swiftly inside. At first glance, the house was still quiet and nothing seemed out of place. I moved slowly towards the full entrance of the kitchen's archway that lead into the study. I grabbed the skillet off of the stove and held it two handed, like a baseball bat, ready to swing.

Edging into the study I noticed a new fire had been started and an impossibly large man stood, back facing me; hand in his pockets starting at the fire. I moved cautiously behind him steady my arms as I raised the skillet up ready to strike.

"Sam look out!"

The shout had been so sudden it shocked me so much I jumped but quickly followed the voice to the left of me. Standing in the hallway entrance was an older gentleman who was reaching for what I could only assume was a gun. The giant he had called Sam had already turned and fixed his sights on me. Not even a second after he registered my presence, he rushed forward

Without another second my muscles coiled and I rushed towards him and kicked out hard. The kick landing hard in his gut and sending him skidding back. I turned right after and threw the skillet at the older man knocking the gun from his hand. I moved to go for him and a fist connected with my face.

For a moment I was dazed and remembered Sam and turned blocking another blow before it landed. Still having a hold of his arm I used my strength to stagger him forward landing an elbow to his face; moving even faster to lash out at his knees, kicking one out hard to bring him down grunting.

When I moved to land another blow, this time to the back of his head, he quickly grabbed my knees and with amazing speed slammed me down onto my back. I fought to regain my breath, but Sam didn't give me any time at all. With a burning still in my lungs I dodged a fist only to have a boot connect with my face. The next kick the older man tried to land I grabbed a hold of his ankle and dug deep.

I wasn't as strong as I could be, dangerously so, but I had enough to lift him off the floor, with effort, and causing him to slam onto the wooden floor, head striking violently back. I went to turn my attention back to the actual threat, and pain so sharp caused me to lurch up and scream. My cries cut short as blood spit from my lips as I looked down to see the fire poker protruding from my chest.

"Sam!" I knew that voice. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"She attacked us first-"

"She doesn't know who you are idjit!"

My vision was spotting; blackness creeping in around the edges. Bobby pushed Sam away and kneeled next to me.

"Dea, Dea don't pass out on me."

I went to say something in reply but couldn't get past the blood that sat thick in my throat. I wasn't going to be able to fight the darkness closing in. Bobby had called it passing out but we both knew I was dying.

"Hold on," he said more to himself than anyone else and grabbed a hold of the poker.

Before he ripped it out I looked over at Sam one last time, remembering the inhuman look that had been on his face when I had looked up at him as he impaled me. He and the older man were human, I knew they were but Sam looked like he had no life in his eyes; no soul that gave him that spark. That look was the last thing I saw right before I died.

* * *

><p>It felt like I was waking up from a short nap, but more painful and less enjoyable. I could hear the sharp intake of breath and the sound of grown men fighting, all before I opened my eyes. They were standing in a circle, the older man from earlier was still here, and when he saw me his eyes widened as he went straight for his gun. Bobby noticed and stopped him fast.<p>

"Put away the gun, Samuel. Now."

For a moment the two men stared at each other. A game of will between them that, thankfully, Bobby won.

"You mind telling us what the hell is going on here?" Samuel asked not taking his eyes off me.

Sam finally turned to look at me, his eyes still dead of all emotion except that rage.

"Castiel brought her to me. Her name is Dea. She's a really old hunter-"

"That apparently can't die? That seems like a pretty important part you are skipping."

"So what is she?"

This from Sam. He looked at Bobby, jaw muscles twitching as he removed his blood stained jacket.

"I don't know," Bobby received a look, making his face turn crimson from frustration, "I don't! The only things I could find written about her was that she was called The Abomination until the early 1700's. An angel cursed her when her father began to be worshipped in a small town."

"And that's it?" Sam demanded, instead of asking.

Bobby's eyes narrowed like daggers.

"Yeah that's it. What else you wanting?"

"How about an explanation about why she's called The Abomination?" Samuel inquired.

"Because she's the only living thing that can kill angels and demons without needing any weapons. She can produce Holy Fire that can consume a whole twenty foot building in seconds."

"Good way to talk me up Bobby," I said, sarcasm hanging on every word.

Bobby gave me a, "Would ya shut up," look that I shrugged my shoulders too.

Sam turned to face me, hands on his hips, suddenly looking at me with interest. It did not put me at ease.

"Well…let's see it then?"

Again with the demanding. I moved myself slowly off the couch, wincing as my stiff muscles cracked as I went. When I finally stood I wiggled my fingers and smiled sarcastically.

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"How else would you like me to say it you jolly freakin' giant? I can't _produce_ any fire. I haven't for close to two years now."

"Why not?"

"She can't be who you think she is, Bobby," Samuel cut in moving away from the group.

"Obviously, I died and regenerated. That not really a 'normal thing'."

"Are you sure she's on our side?" Samuel whispered to the men.

Rolling my eyes I said sharply, "Why don' you ask me yourself?"

"Because monsters lie, that's why."

I winced as if I had taken a blow. The motion wasn't lost on Bobby. He reassured them I was and Sam just continued to look at me, arms crossed.

"She could be useful," he said to no one in particular.

I really didn't like him.

"Enough of this," Bobby cut in. "What the hell you two doing in my house anyways?"

"Dean maybe under attack by some Djinn."

"Maybe?"

"I'm not a hundred percent, Bobby but-"

My hearing cut out as my mind started to race.

Dean.

Sam had distinctly said that the guys' name was Dean. I'm sure that there were thousands upon thousands of guy's named Dean, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode. I couldn't think past the face that came into mind at the sound of that name.

"Dean-"my voice croaked out, jarring looks from all three of the men. My only focus, however, was on Sam. "You said his name is Dean?"

He looked at me as if I lost my mind as I walked slowly towards the group. Bobby looked worried, which I thought was odd.

"Yeah, that's my brother."

"Sandy brown hair, green eyes, husky voice, and six feet something. Looks like a freakin' model-"

"I told you that's my brother."

Sam was obviously done with the whole conversation, until a light bulb of recognition flicked in his eyes.

"Wait a minute, Dea as in the girl Dean dreamed about? Dean talked about you constantly for weeks. We all denied you were real, even Cas."

That got my attention.

"What did you say?"

"Dean talked constantly about you. He wouldn't let it go-"

"Not that," I interjected. My fury rising as I clenched my fists. "Castiel told Dean I didn't exist? Castiel knows you?"

"He knows all of us. Especially Dean."

My world seemed to spin out of control as I tried to find something solid to hold on to.

Castiel, my only friend, had lied to me; lied to others about my existence and for what purpose? I remember hearing Sam's name a year ago in that hotel room. Castiel standing in front of me telling me the story of the great Winchester's; The Vessels of Heaven.

The only person I could turn to for answers stood less than two inches away from me.

"I want to know what he told you that night he first brought me here Bobby. I want to know now."

Bobby let out a long sigh as he moved behind his desk, reaching into his lower right hand drawer, and pulled out his whiskey with a glass. He motioned for me to move closer, maybe to sit. I did move closer but the anger in me refused for me to sit or remain calm.

"This may take a while," Bobby finally said, right after downing his first glass.

* * *

><p>Sam and Samuel had left hours ago, half way through Bobby's speech. They'd said they needed to leave to reach the base camp they'd made with others; Sam kept saying to keep an eye on his brother.<p>

Brother. I couldn't wrap my head around this and the small betrayal that had been made by Cas. Or was it really small at all? Bobby had been told I was important; I needed to train because something big was coming and he needed me. I already knew that something was coming. I felt it when Raphael and his holy crusaders had shown up. But the feeling of being used left a fowl residue on my skin; leaving a dull ache that slowly suffocated me.

Bobby had asked if I had any questions if I wanted to talk it out but I had none. The dazed expression I probably had glued to my face letting him know I wasn't in a place for questions to be answered.

Soon he had gone off to bed. I had prayed for sleep to take me but it refused. All afternoon I screamed and called out; prayed for Castiel to show his face. The answers I wanted were from him, no one else. But he never came and neither did sleep. So I stayed up and scrubbed on the rug with the latest blood stains and straightened up the kitchen. Now all I did was take a part the guns and clean them.

Somewhere in between these hours Bobby had gotten out of bed. Handling phone calls from hunters and looking up lore her and there for them. I didn't move from my cleaning station and somewhere off to my left, a plate with a sandwich had been placed.

More hours passed and the sandwich I didn't eat disappeared. My body begged me to let it rest but my mind was still running a thousand miles a minute.

That's when Bobby rushed in.

"You need to go upstairs now!"

"Why?" I asked, curious about why he was so frantic.

"Dean is here."

Oh…that's why. I put down the .38 I had been taking a part and came around the desk.

"Why do I have to hide?"

I crossed my arms and stood tall, or as tall as a 5'3 girl could. I was being stubborn I know, but in all honesty I wanted to see him. A big part felt like I needed to see him.

"One because Cas made him believe you don't exist. Two, your shirt is still stained with blood and three, he's here with his family."

That made my arms drop.

"Family?"

"Yes. Dean isn't in this life anymore. If I have any say in it, I'd like to keep it that way."

My heart sank. I don't know why I was so upset. Bobby was right. I had seen too many good men and women die so young in this life. All the common sense in the world didn't take away the hurt that I couldn't talk to him, show him he'd been right all along.

"I understand."

It sounded lame even to me but it didn't matter. I moved around him and moved towards the stairs. After I'd gone up a few steps Bobby called after me. I stopped, foot halfway up the next step, hand on the rail and looked down at him.

"It's going to be okay."

Instead of answering him I gave him a meek smile and finished my walk up the stairs sitting on the last step so I could at least ease drop.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Dean<strong>

"Damn it," Bobby sighed as he took a look at Lisa, Ben, and I standing at his door.

"It's good to see you too, Bobby. It's been a while," I acknowledged.

It had been a while. A whole year to be exact. While it was good to see Bobby, I just wished it was under different circumstances than putting Lisa and Ben in danger.

"If you're here something's wrong."

Nodding my head in agreement I looked back and made introductions: "Bobby this is Lisa and Ben."

Lisa gave him a small wave with a curt smile and Ben gave a nod. The kid had been quiet the whole trip over to Bobby's place.

"It's nice to finally meet you two," he nodded for them to follow him inside, which they quickly took him up on the offer. "Mi casa a su casa-"

Before I followed them inside I took another quick look around, noticing Sam walking up towards the door. I wondered how Bobby would take it and started to brace myself for when that time came.

"You guys can go on and head upstairs. The TV's broken but there are plenty of Readers Digest. Just don't touch the décor. Assume it's all loaded," he nodded before they headed up the stairs.

Suddenly what sounded like thundering sounded upstairs causing Lisa and Ben to hold up on the stairs. I glanced up the stairwell and then back at Bobby, who seemed surprised, but far from rattled or curious like the rest of us.

"Rats," he stated quickly.

Without further distraction, remembering that Sam was behind me, I started in with the basics.

"So-"

Bobby's eye set moved to behind me. A slight hint of surprise creased his brow but instead of the reaction I thought I was going to get when Sam said, "Hey Bobby," I watched as he simply nodded and replied, "Sam."

This time my brow creased in surprise that quickly became anger. I turned to look back at Sam in the doorway, just standing there instead of coming all the way inside. Looking between the two of them I realized that I was the one playing monkey in the middle with information. That overwhelming feeling came crashing down upon me like a bag of bricks and I just didn't even know where to go with it.

"Why don't we, ugh, take this in the kitchen," Bobby offered not waiting to see what we said.

I followed him quickly into the kitchen while Sam took his time. I watched as they both got comfortable at Bobby's small linoleum table while I paced back and forth in the kitchen like a ticking time bomb. I ran my hand over my face, walking towards them and was ready to say what needed to be said. When I opened my mouth, however, no words came out. So I went back to pacing and finally the words came tumbling out as I almost ran towards the sitting men.

"You knew! You knew this whole time that Sam was alive?"

I looked over at Sam trying desperately to compose myself and felt like I was failing.

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"Look-"

"How long?" I demanded cutting Bobby off from his attempt at an explanation.

"All year," he replied glumly turning away from me.

I felt my face fall even more as I looked at Sam and back at Bobby. The tears were threatening to flow, the stinging nagging of them wanting release. I refused them and shook my head as I walked away.

"You gotta be kidding me…"

"And I would do it again."

That made me spin around, arms wide, looking on at the only man I ever thought of as a father figure. Almost pleading with him to say something that would make up for the pain that was in my chest.

"Why?!"

"Because you got out Dean!" he replied through gritted teeth. "You walked away from the life and I was so damn grateful you got no idea!"

"Do you have any clue what walking away meant for me?"

"Yeah, a woman and a kid and not getting your guts ripped out at age thirty, that's what _that _meant!"

"That woman and that kid, I went to them because _you _asked me too," I jabbed my finger in Sam's direction. All the frustration and aggression that was building up inside of me. Why couldn't they understand what this was doing to me?

"Good!"

"Good for who? I showed up on their door step half out of my head with grief. God knows why they even let me in. I drank too much; I had nightmares! I looked everywhere. I collected hundreds of books trying to find anything to bust you out."

"You promised you'd leave it alone," Sam countered.

It only fueled that anger even more.

"Of course I didn't leave it alone! So sue me! A damn year," I said the last turning to Bobby. The tears threatening for release again. "You couldn't put me out of my misery?"

And that's when Bobby turned on me.

"Look: I get it wasn't easy but that's life! It's as close to happiness as I've ever seen a hunter get. I didn't want to have to lie to you, son. But you were out Dean."

I looked him square in the eye and told him flatly: "Do I look out to you?"

Bobby looked more hurt by those six words as if I had punched him in his face. He turned away from me causing me to look at the only other person in the room, but Sam gave me no responses; no comfort. I turned away from him, looking out into the study I had been in so many times before and noticed a very neat, almost order like, gun taken a part and being clean. I knew right away that wasn't Bobby and Sam had been with me for the past day or so.

I took my hands out of my jackets pockets and pointed my finger over in the direction of the guns.

"Who else is here, Bobby?"

He glanced to the desk with the .38 still sitting in order like pieces and for a minute I thought he swore.

"That was just me. I'd been taking it a part to clean it before all you idjits showed up."

"You're lying."

"Look here Dean-"

"Cut the crap!" I almost shouted. "You and I both know that neither one of us here in this room is that organized when cleaning any gun. Someone else is here Bobby. Who is it?"

My question had been edged and final. For a moment he looked at me and I thought he was going to tell me but he remained quiet. I looked over at Sam to see if he would talk but he just sat there and stared back at me.

"If I have to go upstairs and take a part every room, I will, until I find whoever is here!"

"A girl is staying here with Bobby," Sam admitted.

Bobby looked at him like he was about ready to strangle him.

"What girl?"

The question was already etched on my face, brows furrowed, as I looked more at Sam. Bobby was obviously going to try and keep hiding the information I needed. Sam went to open his mouth to say more, Bobby looking ready to punch him, when a soft feminine voice came from the study.

"Me."

I turned to face the mystery woman and felt my heart sink impossibly lower.

* * *

><p><strong>SOOOOOOOOOOO...<strong>

**What do you lovelies think so far? **

**Feedback is always majorly appreciated. I would really love to know what you think.**

**MUCH LOVE, Jeneane**


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